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pinkie-pop · 2 months

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"I Have Something To Tell You."

Part I Part II Part III

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Yandere Genshn Impact, non religious SAGAU, Yandere Fatui Harbingers

Word count: 4k

Includes: Portrayal of mental illness, suicide, brief mention of experimentation, Scaramouche gets a new name, he's also really annoying, solving problems with violence

Synopsis: After killing yourself and landing in the world of Genshin Impact, you reflect on all that has gone wrong.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Two weeks.

You have two weeks before Dottore’s experiments start (you suppose even his apparent fondness for you has its limits), two weeks to make a case for yourself and prove to Scaramouche that you're worth saving.

“What about him? I don't have time for idle chatter, you know. Spit it out.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. You hope this goes well.

“Well…”

Every second seems to stretch on for a millennium. The silence is deafening, though you can feel your heart beating so rapidly you're surprised you can't hear it.

“...And this information is reliable?” He says at last. You nod. Contrary to your expectations, Scaramouche simply sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I assume you have a reason for telling me this now of all times. What do you want?”

“Freedom,” you say. He quirks his eyebrow, so you continue. “This place is suffocating. Let's run away together. To Sumeru.”

“Together?” There's an unreadable expression on his face, but you’re far too focused on convincing him to pay it any mind.

“Yes. Unless you want to stay here, even after learning the truth?”

“No.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as if in contemplation. “Alright. Pack your bags. We'll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

“Tomorrow?!”

“Is that a problem?” You stare at him with wide eyes. “Close your mouth,” he says. You do.

“Don't we need time to prepare? A plan? Something? Anything?”

“What, you don't trust me?” He mocks. “It's fine. I'm sure you'll figure something out.” Your jaw drops to the floor. “Figure it out”? Is he insane? And he's leaving it all up to you? You gawk at him, but he merely shoos you away from his chambers.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

True to his word, Scaramouche (you suppose his name will be changing soon) picks you up at dawn. You brought nothing but the clothes on your back, some mora, and some jewelry that looked expensive. It’s precisely 4:44 AM when you both exit the palace, careful not to be seen by any guards or servants. You stifle a yawn, having been up all night concocting a plan for the escape.

Think, brain, think.

You have to come up with an executable plan by tonight. You can't think straight. Even writing your own suicide note didn't take this much brainpower.

Wait…that's it.

Hurriedly, you grab a pen and paper from your writing desk and get to work. Through writing, you explain that you and Scaramouche have become star-crossed lovers. You know the other Harbingers would not accept your union, and so you've left the palace together to act out a suicide pact. Don’t bother looking for your bodies, you said, as you'd be throwing yourselves into the ocean. Carefully, you seal the envelope and place it under your pillow. Scaramouche said he’d handle getting you out of the palace, so you don’t have to worry on that end, but getting caught after the fact still falls on you to figure out.

Luckily, you already have an idea or two.

Just like in your letter, the two of you head to the ocean first. It’s still early, so many boats are left unmanned in the docks. Stealing a simple paddle boat is easy enough, but it dawns on you that you have no idea how to get to Sumeru.

“What is it?” Scaramouche asks, seeming to sense your hesitance.

“I…don’t actually know how to get to Sumeru from here.” Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

“Seriously? Is that head of yours just for show?”

“Hey! At least I have a plan. You just dumped this whole thing on me!”

“It was your idea,” he retorts. You groan.

“Whatever. Let’s just go in one direction until we hit land, I guess. We’ll figure the rest out from there.” With that, you and Scaramouche work together in silence to untie a boat from its tether and board it. It only takes about an hour of rowing before your arms begin to ache, but you push through the pain, too prideful to ask Scaramouche to take over. By your third hour, your arms feel like they’re about to fall off, and your rowing has slowed significantly. Wordlessly, Scaramouche takes the ores from your weary hands and takes over the rowing. That’s strange…why didn’t he tease you? Shouldn’t he have at least called you weak or useless?

“What?” He asks, voice gruff.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you say, realizing you’d been staring. “Sorry.”

“Hmph.” He turns away with a huff. You might be imagining it, but you could have sworn his ears turned just the tiniest bit red.

Finally, the two of you reach shore. It looks…oddly familiar.

“Oh!” You say, clapping your hands together. Scaramouche jumps, but you pay him no mind (If you had paid attention, however, you would undoubtedly have noticed that jumping implies his guard was down—something that seems very out of character for someone like him). “I know where we are!”

“Where?” He asks, looking somewhat annoyed (though that could just be his face).

“The beach!” You say.

“...Seriously?” Realizing how silly that sounded, your face heats up.

“The beach,” you say. “The one from the tutorial.”

“The what?”

“Forget it. We’re in the east end of Mondstadt. I can take us to Sumeru from here.” The route is pretty straightforward, so you should have no trouble getting there. You lead the way, passing through the whispering woods, past Mondstadt city, Springvale, and then Dawn Winery. After about two hours of walking, you’ve already made it to Liyue.

“Tired yet?” Scaramouche asks.

“Not even a little,” you reply.

You walk from Stonegate to Dihua Marsh, then pass Wangshu Inn and the Guili Planes. Finally, you’ve reached Liyue Harbor, where you and Scaramouche stop to get food and rest.

“Do you think you’ll change your name?” You ask in between bites.

“Where’s that coming from?”

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to use Scaramouche anymore. Considering the whole Dottore situation and all. Plus,” you say, pausing to take a chew. “We’re on the run right now. A Harbinger’s name might draw attention.”

“Pick one for me, then.”

“How about ‘Hat Guy’?” You ask, stifling a laugh. He huffs.

“Forget it.”

“What about Kuni?”

“No.”

“Kuzushi?”

“No.”

“Kuku?”

“Are you even trying?”

“You insult me,” you say with a grin.”Well, if we’re going to Sumeru, maybe we should pick a Sumerian name? What do you think about Arasay?”

“That…isn’t terrible.”

“High praise.” You decide not to tell him that ‘Arasay’ is really just ‘Scara’ in pig Latin, missing a letter. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I…um, think I’m from the future?”

“What?”

“Uh, let me start over and walk you through my train of thought. So, in my world, the way I interact with this world is through a medium called a computer. This computer allows me to take limited control of the Traveler and his associates, make them stronger, stuff like that. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes. Are you going somewhere with this?”

“I just said I was walking you through my train of thought. Have some patience will you?” From Arasay’s smirk, you can tell he was only messing with you. “Ugh, you’re the worst. Anyway, the computer gives me insight on important events that happen to the traveler. The thing is, though, some of those events haven’t actually happened yet. Like, let me ask you this: what was the last major thing that the Traveler did?”

“He defeated Stormterror not long after you got here.”

“After I got here?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s a huge problem.” You bury your face in your hands, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of your situation.

“Care to enlighten me?” Arasay asks, seeming annoyed (though, really, that seems to just be his default state).

“So, it’s- I- Ugh.” You let your head fall onto the table. Quickly, you raise your head and look up at your companion. “How do you know about me?”

“You possessed one of my colleagues.”

“Except I didn’t.” You lean in closer to him, nearly face-to-face.

“What do you mean?”

“Tartaglia hasn’t met the Traveler yet, and I didn’t take control over him until after he met the Traveler. So, let me ask you again: how do you know about me?”

“Agh!” Arasay grabs at his head, a pained expression on his face. You leap to your feet and rush over to his side, your hands floating mere inches from him, as if you’re worried he’ll shatter with the smallest touch. “My…my head!” He says, clutching his hair between his fists. He convulses, then slumps over.

“Arasay? Arasay!” You shake him, desperately trying to rouse him to no avail. “Arasay!” You cry.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, nearly slumping over.

“That scared me,” you say. “Are you sure you’re okay now? You aren’t just saying it out of pride?”

“Your concern disgusts me,” he says, hiding his face behind his hat. You know he’s lying: the tips of his ears are pink. After composing himself, he lets go of his hat and faces you. “I-”

“Hey-”

You both look at each other. Arasay sighs. “You go first,” he says.

“I think you should ditch the hat.”

“What?”

“It draws too much attention. We don’t want rumors about the hat guy and his companion floating around so soon after we ran off, do we?” Arasay sighs again, louder this time.

“Fine,” he says taking his hat off and placing it to his side. “Happy?”

“You look naked.” He gives you the stink eye. “Sorry, sorry. You look fine. We’ll get you a new hat when we get to Sumeru. Maybe a less flashy one?”

“Whatever.”

“You had something you wanted to say, too, right?” He nods.

“I had a dream,” he starts, looking off in the distance. “It happened when I passed out. In it, I saw the timeline you described. I remembered meeting the Traveler, fighting him, joining him, getting my vision-” Arasay unclenches his fist, turning his hand over to reveal what you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. A shiny blue vision, encased in a Sumerian sheath. “I remembered everything.”

You stare at him, mouth agape. “Interesting,” you say, a million thoughts racing through your head.

“I think I know what we need to do next.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

When you finish eating, you leave the harbor and head to the Chasm, where you bribe the two guards to let you in. Navigating the Chasm is a little tricky, as it’s an area you haven’t spent much time in, but through sheer luck and some educated guessing, you manage to find your way to Cinnabar Cliff.

Finally, you’re in Sumeru. It took three hours of rowing and five of walking, but you finally made it. As the sun sets over the horizon, you breathe out a sigh of relief. You’ve made it.

“We’re here,” Arasay says. “What now?”

“Now we go to Gandharva village,” you say, confidently taking a step forwards. As the two of you travel down the path, you spot an Aranara out of the corner of your eye. Though you’d like to go up and befriend it, it disappears before you can even get a good look. You continue walking, lost in your own thoughts when Arasay grabs you. You jolt to attention, quickly realizing that you were about two steps from waking right into a withering zone. Right, you had forgotten about these.

“Watch it,” he says.

“Should we just go around?” You ask, looking over to your companion. He shakes his head.

“Stay here. I’ll take care of it.” You’re surprised by how quickly and efficiently he fights off the monsters and clears out the area. You knew he was strong from playing the game, of course, but something about seeing it in action is different. It’s amazing, really. “Don’t tell me you’re impressed by only this much,” he says. You glare at him.

“Not at all,” you say, walking past him. You pause, briefly forgetting your frustration and remembering your manners. “Thanks, though.” As you continue down the path, you spot a familiar tuff of green hair and call out to it.

“Collei!” You cry, running over to her. Collie jumps, looking up at you with a confused smile.

“Do…do I know you?” She asks. You freeze. Whoops. You forgot she doesn’t know who you are.

“Ah- sorry! Let me introduce myself. I’m [Name], the Player—which is how I knew your name. If you want me to prove it, I can-”

“No, I believe you,” she says firmly.

“You do?”

“Uh, well,” Collei folds her hands together, looking a bit bashful. “It was a little weird, but I felt like I knew you the moment I saw you, even though I was sure I’d never seen you in my life. Your presence was…familiar to me. It…felt like home. A-anyway, that’s how I recognized you! But, um, what are you doing here? And, um, who’s your friend?”

“‘Friend’ is pushing it,” Arasay huffs. You sigh dramatically, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you drape yourself over him.

“Soulmate, then,” you say, smiling. “Love of my life, the apple of my eye?” Arasay pushes you off of him, and you fall to the ground, your laughing only intensified by the bright pink of his cheeks. Collei looks between you two awkwardly.

“Arasay,” he says to her, helping you up off the ground. “And the reason we’re here is because-”

“Let’s go to the village first,” you say. “We need to speak to your master, too.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“So you need a place to stay for the night?” Tighnari asks, looking between you two. You nod.

“Yes, if it’s not too much trouble,” you say.

“Not at all,” he says. “You two can stay with me.”

“Um, Master,” Collei pipes up. “if it’s okay, I’d like to be the one to host the Player in my hut.” Tighnari looks her up and down, as if sizing her up in his mind.

“I’m sure the player would be more comfortable in my hut,” he says, his ear flicking. “You can take their friend.”

“But—!”

“Collei,” Tighnari says in a warning tone. “Don’t push yourself. I’m sure the Player wouldn’t want you stretching yourself thin over them, right? Don’t forget that you’re still ill.” Collei nods, looking dejected, so you offer her a small smile for comfort. This seems to cheer her up a bit, but she still looks disheartened. The way they’re fighting over you reminds you of being with the Fatui. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” you say. Arasay looks like he has something to say to you, but you avoid his stare until Collei drags him over to her hut. You and Tighnari begin to settle in for the night. It’s clear from the way his gaze continues to travel back to you that he has something he wants to say. You ignore him, though, far too exhausted to try and humor him.

Soon enough, morning arrives. You ask Tighnari to accompany you and Arasay to Sumeru city.

“You’re going to the city?” Tighnari’s ears perk up. “What do you need there?”

“People,” you say. Tighnari looks over to Arasay, who simply shrugs and gets ready to depart.

The three of you make it to the city, where the guards stop and hand you an Akasha Terminal. You thank them and put it on, keeping it there for a grand total of three and a half steps until the guards stop looking, and you pocket the thing immediately.

“Where to?” Arasay pipes up.

“The Akademiya. We need to pick up Cyno and Alhaitham.”

“Cyno I know, but I’ve never heard of this Alhaitham before,” Tighnari says. “Who is he?”

“The Scribe. I don’t know where his office is, though.”

“Cyno might know. And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he can find out.”

“I just hope he’s not busy,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. You keep walking, and in the few seconds you have your eyes off the road, you manage to crash into someone. You and the other person fall to the ground, with you clutching the arm you accidentally hit.

“Watch where you’re going,” Arasay scolds.

“Sorry, I-”

“Not you. Her,” he says, glaring daggers at the lady you knocked into. Tighnari helps you up, and you help the lady to her feet. As you do, you notice her arms are covered in bandages. One happens to be loose, and you can see dark purple scales poking out from underneath.

“...Dunyarzad?” You say, nearly holding your breath.

“Yes?” She asks, looking confused. “Do I know you?”

“Yes! No! Um, maybe…?”

“Huh…?” With exceptional timing, Dehya arrives on the scene.

“Dehya!”

“Do I know you…?” You chuckle. You feel like you’ve been hearing that a lot lately.

“So…” Briefly, you explain who you are.

“Can you take accountability for your words?” Dehya asks, eyes narrowing.

“I can,” you say confidently. “But first, can you come with me? I only want to prove myself once, and there are still some other people I want to see.”

“And now you’re giving me orders? The Player has been missing for weeks. Do you think I’m stupid?” She asks, stepping closer to you. Arasay blocks her from coming any closer, and you can practically feel the animosity in the air. “Even if I did believe you, I can’t just abandon my post like that.”

“That’s enough, Dehya,” says Dunyarzad, walking between you and her.

“My lady…?”

“I believe them,” she says. “I want to listen to whatever they have to say.”

“But-”

“That’s an order.” Her tone is final, leaving no room for further argument. You look at her, impressed by her firmness, to which she returns your gaze with a smile. Dehya sighs, gesturing for you to take the lead.

You lead your party of four (five, including yourself) to the Akademiya, where you’re met with several stares from the students. It’s clear that your odd group doesn’t quite belong here, but perhaps due to the ferocious gaze of Dehya and Arasay, no one dares to say anything. Tighnari leads you to Cyno’s office, where he’s chatting with one of his subordinates. He quirks an eyebrow at your arrival but otherwise ignores you until he’s finished talking. The guard leaves, and Cyno turns to Tighnari. You briefly explain that you’re looking for him and the Scribe, and Tighnari vouches for your trustworthiness. That seems to be all Cyno needs, as he doesn’t ask any further questions and simply leads you to Althaitham’s office.

You knock on the door.

“Come in,” calls a familiar voice. You open the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Player?” he says, barely glancing up from his paperwork.

You’re floored. “How did you—?”

“How could I not? I’d have to be a fool not to recognize you,” He says, putting his pen down. Dehya bristles, but doesn’t say anything. Alhaitham rises from his seat and beckons you all inside. Once the door is closed, he continues. “Now, then. I take it you have some matter of great importance you want my help with?”

“Yes! So, here’s the the thing...”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“You’re…going to rescue the Dendro Archon…?” Everyone gapes at you. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You laugh nervously.

“Yes! But, um, only if you’re willing to help me. I can’t do it on my own,” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“How would you even…?” Dunyarzad murmurs, looking dazed.

“Before I answer that, there’s something else I need to tell you about. You, uh, may want to sit down for this.” Everyone raises an eyebrow, but no one moves to sit. “Please,” you say. Sighing, Tighnari takes a seat on the floor. Cyno joins him soon after. Soon, everyone save for yourself and Arasay have seated themselves, and you begin.

“How do you know about me?” You ask, looking around. Your gaze settles on Tighnari.

“We’ve all felt your presence,” he says tentatively, as if worried that may be the wrong answer.

“How?”

“You’ve taken control of several of us,” Cyno says. “And we’ve felt your gaze through the Traveler as well.”

“Aha!” Several people look startled by your exclamation, but you pay them no mind. “That’s wrong. The Traveler never came to Sumeru. You couldn’t have possibly felt me from them. Not to mention, I never took control over any of you before I got to Sumeru,” you say, looking over at them triumphantly.

“What are you…?”

“You shouldn’t know about me,” you say. One by one, you watch with victory as everyone begins to clutch at their heads and lean over. By the time the first one passes out, you’re glad you had the foresight to ask them to sit for this.

You wait for everyone to recover, which thankfully doesn’t take long. “So,” you say, looking over everyone’s faces to make sure they’re lucid. “Here’s the plan: we’re going to reuse your and the Traveler’s plan to free the Dendro Archon.”

“The plan took place on Jnagarbha day,” Alhaitham says. “To fully recreate the plan, we’d have to wait months until-”

“Forget that,” Arasay says. “The real problem is the Grand Sage, right? He’s the one keeping Buer locked up. Just take him out. Problem solved.” Everyone goes quiet. What an…unexpectedly brutal solution. Though you suppose he is a former Harbinger.

“Can…can we do that?”

Come to think of it…there are a lot less variables involved now than there were in the original story. The Traveler had to deal with Dottore and Scaramouche, but ‘Scaramouche’ is on your side now, and Dottore is still in Sneznaya. Maybe you don’t have to come up with some big, convoluted plan to take down the Akademiya. Maybe you really can just solve your problems with violence.

“Okay, let’s do it.” Everyone gapes at you, but you hold firm. “When should we start?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taking out the Grand Sage was pretty easy. All you had to do was walk into his office and knock him out. From there, you just went up to the Sanctuary of Surathana, once again knocking out whoever stood in your way.

Finally, you’re here. You can see Nahida sleeping in the giant meditation chamber. You’re so close to freedom that you can practically taste it. But first…

“Um, so…does anyone know how to deactivate this thing?” You ask sheepishly.

Alhaitham steps up, walking to some mechanism in front of the chamber. He messes with it for a few minutes before the chamber opens up.

Nahida opens her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“I’d like to speak with you alone, if that’s alright,” you say, stepping forward. You glance back at your friends (can you call them that now?). You feel pretty bad about dragging them here just to kick them out, but what you’re about to say needs to remain confidential. Everyone except for Arasay leaves to wait outside. Once you’re sure they’re gone, you begin to explain your situation. You tell Nahida about how you got here, why you left Snezhnaya, and why you saved her. You tell her you’ll help her save Sumeru from forbidden knowledge if she hosts and protects you and Arasay in exchange. Additionally, you promise to her that Arasay will give her special knowledge about the ‘sky’ if she promises not to hand her gnosis to the Fatui. Arasay nearly protests at the mention of this, but one pleading look is all it takes to shut him up. Finally, you finish your story. “Please help us,” you say.

"Okay," she says.

Taglist: @Mmeatt @Shikanosn @Sangoqueenkoko @Vianitry @Lacedribbns @Springkuinn @Clavichordcleffa @starshinesama @kamit-frog @agaygothicmushroom @ash1

#self aware genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #sagau #genshin sagau #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere dottore #yandere harbingers

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lordsukunas · 2 months

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the thorn in your side.

synop: nobleman!gojo being annoying asf, but he’s also kinda cute?

tags: fem!reader, royal au, gojo is a nobleman, reader is crown princess, reader is a lil mean to him but it’s really just playful banter, slight suggestiveness..? and by slight i mean very slight. not historically accurate (don’t jump me)

note: dk where this came from. prob all of the historical manhwas thats been on my fyp but wtv. uhh this is lowk fun tho, might make more of this if i have motivation!

“princess! i got a favor to ask.”

“ohhhh, princess!”

“hey, princess?”

your eye twitches in irritation. how many questions can one nobleman have in one day? you’ve answered each one with the dignity and grace expected of a future queen, but there’s only so much of that dignity and grace one can have.

you look up from your book, bright cerulean eyes staring down at you. “yes, lord gojo?”

his grin widens, and you have to resist the urge to slap it smooth off of his face. “do you know where i can find those little cookies? y’know, the ones you had at the banquet last week?”

... seriously?! he’s asking you about macaroons?!

“i believe you’re consulting the wrong person about that. perhaps you should ask the head chef.” your voice is strained, as if answering satoru’s questions for the umpteenth time today is making you physically ill.

satoru sighs and leans back in his chair, one long leg crossed over the other. “yeaaah, but i wanna ask you. since you’re the princess n’ all. unless...”

he tips his chair closer to yours, and his warm breath ghosts across the conch of your ear. tingles dance down your spine and heat creeps up the back of your neck. does he have regard for personal space?

“perhaps our kingdom’s queen-to-be is too dumb to know where macaroons come from?”

you should just ignore him. satoru’s entire purpose, it seems, is to just get on your nerves and force you to lose your well-maintained composure. you know this. and yet...

“i am not dumb, satoru. it is you who’s the idiot, considering you cannot seem to use basic logic to realize their origin,” you snap, words coming out in a hot, angry rush.

you are sick of him testing your patience, sick of his silly little grin and glossy pink lips, and stupid, ugly eyes that always seem to have a twinkle of mischief in them. how dare he speak to you that way? he’s only a nobleman, and you could easily strip him of that title.

a soft chuckle from satoru interrupts your mental tirade. what is he laughing for? is he laughing at you?

“what’s so funny.” you fold your arms over your chest, your brows knitted together.

“oh, nothing. it’s just...” he laughs again. it’s a soft, light sound, quite unlike the usual hearty and loud giggles and barely stifled snickers. yuck. “this is the first time you’ve used my first name, princess.”

ah.

did you really?

your mind replays what you said, and, unsurprisingly, he’s right. you called him satoru, not lord gojo.

the heat now burns your cheeks, and you look away, focusing your gaze on the nearly infinite rows of books in the library. “a mistake. even i make them, but do not think that will be happening again, lord gojo.”

satoru simply hums, drumming thick fingers against the table. “ah, but my name sounds so nice coming from your lips. are you sure it won’t happen again? perhaps in a different, more intimate context?”

how hard would you have to throw a book to get him to finally shut up?

you all but shove yourself out of your seat, tucking your bookmark in between the pages. you smooth out your gown and get rid of invisible specks of dust. “that... will not be happening either. good day, lord gojo. i hope i will you in the future.”

without waiting for what would definitely be some cheeky response, you spin on your heel and exit the library, rushing down the castle’s halls.

why does satoru gojo have to be so infuriating?!

#﹒writing #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk gojo fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo #gojo satoru

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amoreva · 3 months

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GHOST IN THE WIND

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: after a rough turnout of the quest assigned to you, you began to see your ex-boyfriend as the poison slowly kills you.

warnings: angst, post luke betrayal, poisoning, mentions of effects of poison

a/n: so sorry, was taking a slight break on requests for this fic and the fic series that is in the works. I promise i will answer the requests at some point.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

“Medic!” The door to the medical cabin slammed open. The door knob made a hole in wooden walls at Annabeth’s strength. “Will…”

She rasped out, carrying your dead weight. Your breath coming in short bursts as if your lungs couldn’t hold any more air. Veins darkened to the color of night, crawling up your flesh like a parasite itching to take over the host.

“Oh my gods…” Will Solace, head counselor of Apollo Cabin, gasped and helped you onto one of the uncomfortable cots.

You were mumbling nonsense as black liquid dribbled out of your mouth. Will called out your name, desperately trying to grab your attention. Annabeth was standing over you, concerned.

“Oh gods! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!” The other Apollo kid on duty piped up, scrambling to find the ambrosia. It was scary how you looked.

It was like something from the Underworld took hold of your body. There was a puncture wound on your abdomen, which was the probable entrance for the poison.

“Hey, hey—stay conscious for me, okay?” Will spoke as your vision began to get cloudy. He can see you withering away and demanded for information.

“Will…” You managed to croak out. Your friend looked at you with worry, to see the brightest camper succumb to an unknown illness was…bone-chilling.

“Don’t sleep—just don’t black out.” Will muttered as you tasted your favorite fruits as ambrosia slid down your throat easily. “Please…I don’t know if you’ll wake up—”

You were out like a light. The ambrosia combating the poison overwhelmed your body. It was too much for your mind to even find a sliver of energy to try and stay conscious.

Your name was shouted, but sleep pulled you away from the medical cabin and throwing you into a different scene.

It was dark, like you were walking in an empty void. “Judgement.”, you think. You must’ve died and was waiting to get judged on whether you can enter Elysium or not.

What a shitty death. Dying from poison, it wasn’t hero worthy nor significant to a war. Just death to some ghastly poison that you were careless to figuring out what it was.

But…it’s not Judgement. It’s not because you see him. He’s walking around in clothes you last remember him in. Orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. The beads on his necklace moving each time he walked.

You know he isn’t dead. He Iris-messaged you yesterday to apologize for his betrayal. He can’t be dead. You wouldn’t have it.

“Luke!” You tried to call out, but no sound is made from your mouth. It terrified you. You tried to scream your lover’s (ex-lover’s) name again as you saw claws wrap around Luke from the ground and drag him in.

You tried to scream his name again, running to him, but your legs felt like sludge. He stared at you indifferently, accepting his reality—maybe…maybe just maybe you could save him if you run fast enough.

He slipped between your fingers. His chocolate curls disappearing into the floor of whatever abyss you’re in. You let out a silent, dry sob. If…if you had just noticed sooner…you could’ve saved him.

The same hands wrap around your limbs, tugging you down into the floor. Crying out for help, your heart tightened as if someone had a grip on it—squeezing ever last bit of life out. A sharp pull engulfed you into the void.

You gasped deeply. Body launching forward as you grabbed at your chest. You expected the familiar wood floors of the medical cabin or even Will’s warm smile, but…you were on Half-Blood Hill.

Soft, calloused hands were gently placed in your spine. It doesn’t take an Athena kid to figure out who it was.

“You alright?” His deep warm tone filled your head making yourself dizzy. For moment…you allowed yourself to believe he was here, truly.

“Yeah.” You spoke, surprised to hear your voice again. What happened before becoming less and less memorable as you turned to look at Luke.

“You can tell me, y’know? What’s bothering you.” Luke reassured and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

A familiar smile graces your lips, allowing yourself to relax, you lean up against his chest. “I know.” You mumbled as his toned arms wrap around you. “I just…miss you.”

“Miss me? I’m hardly ever away from you.” Luke playfully teased.

The breeze blew against the two of you causing Luke to squeeze you a little tighter. You always claimed he was a human body heater.

Everything dropped. Faded in an all too quick manner before you could even scream for Luke. He was ripped away from you—but you were supposed to be in his arms.

“Hey! She’s up!” Someone called out.

You mind felt fuzzy. Mumbles, moans and groans tumbled out of your lips. You felt like you were outta your own skin—you jerked. Uncomfortable with this sudden irritation.

Annabeth yelped. The sudden reaction from you almost hit her in the face. Another groan of discomfort and pain escaped. Accompanied by it was another struggle to get whatever was out of your body.

To you, it felt like you were shifting a little to get comfortable. In reality, your body was violently twitching and reacting you hit a few Apollo kids. The veins darker than before, your skin paler than usual. What did this poison do?

“Get her—restrain…I—” Will demanded, worried you’d end up hurting yourself.

You screamed as something grabbed you, someone grabbed you. Your brain could only register it as danger and hurt and agony and—

“Stop it—!” You begged. Your voice sounded demented, as if it was the poison talking.

Black liquid oozed out of your mouth as you begged for whatever to stop. Ambrosia was forced down your throat. Lights were too bright. The panic was defeating.

You fell.

But you felt no pain.

It was “Judgement” again. The endless void surrounding the distinct figure, you. “There you are…” Luke grinned once he spotted you. Your legs carrying you to the Hermes’ counselor before you could think of the action.

The void morphed into the familiar forest used to play Capture the Flag. Luke laced his hand with yours. “S’just up ahead.” He tugged you along.

Once more, you let yourself relax like this was the reality that fate has set and not one where Luke betrayed Camp, betrayed Percy, betrayed Annabeth, betrayed…you.

“Where are you taking me?” You laughed. A bright smile on your face as you maneuvered through the forest.

Slipping through the trees and branches, Luke brings you to the dock. The water washing up on the small beach.

A small cliche red and white checkered blanket laid out across the wooden dock, masking the potential splinters. There was chips and two soda cans on the blanket and six roses bunched up to make it look like a bouquet.

“Oh Luke…” Any confusion or anger evaporated when you saw the scene.

He smiled, smiled that charming grin and pulled you to sit down on the blanket. “Used up the rest of my money for the snacks and to bargain with a Demeter kid for these.”

He held up the six roses. The petals a delicate red, soft as a baby’s bum. They smelled nice. He went through all this effort for you?

“Luke…” You repeat in the same tone and took the roses from his hand. You noticed the thorns were cut off and a couple of band aids were around his fingers.

A show of his effort to rid the thorns so you didn’t prick your fingers.

“This…this is all wonderful.” You said, albeit a bit breathless. The roses, the snacks, the blanket—all the thought put into this date. It made you forget you were dreaming. You should’ve known…this was too good to be true.

But you stayed oblivious and in denial, tackling your (ex) boyfriend in a grateful hug. Luke laughed and wrapped your arm around your waist.

Yet, your subconscious pulled you from the happy moment. An uncomfortable feeling itching to tear your guts and organs to shreds. It was as if your own organs and nerves did not belong there—like they were in the wrong body. A warbled scream left your throat. Hands desperate to claw at your flesh.

You wanted it to stop—you would do anything to get this feeling to stop. Your heart breaking. To be ripped away from Luke again and again. In both subconscious and reality was cruel.

Your veins now tendrils crawling up your face, stopping just a little above your eyebrows.

“Hey, hey—breathe!” Someone comforted. You couldn’t recognize their face. It was like as if your sense of familiarity disappeared, triggering your fight or flight (mostly fight) response.

“Will—the antidote?!” A girl called out. Her voice somewhat familiar.

You struggled against binds. You wanted to run far, far away and stop this pain. The pain in your body, the pain in your mind…the agonizing ache in your heart.

“Luke—” The name left your lips desperate for any sort of answer to what was happening.

A small pinch.

Fire. White hot pain sprouting in your body. Burning your insides out. Another cry for help. Another scream of desperation. His name leaving your mouth. It hurt—it hurt all too much. Both the burning in your body and the reality of him being gone. Truly, gone.

“Luke! Please…please—help!”

Overwhelmed, you were sucked back into the dream. This time on a cabin bed. It was unclear on whose cabin you two were in. Luke had his arms around your waist, head on your stomach. The pain fleeting, but lingering.

The stars shined brights whilst the moonlight blessed you two. It was peaceful, almost…dare you say—normal. No gods, no goddesses, no prophecies, no quests, no betrayal, no hurt. Nothing.

You found yourself humming, running your fingers through his curls, and feeling your eyes close with fatigue.

“Falling asleep there, sweetheart?” You could feel his smile against your skin. He pressed a kiss to the flesh nearest to his lips.

“Mhm…” Your body flared up due to a burn—but there was no fire in the cabin. You stayed put. “I—I could spend all of eternity with you.”

“I could spend all of my time in Elysium with you.” Luke mumbled and turned his head to look up at you.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, then his hands, so he was close to you. Lips connected like hands clasping for prayer. It was soft, yet it spoke a lot of words that he could not get out.

“I love you. Never forget that, okay?” Luke whispered against your lips.

His beaded necklace hovering over you. You placed your arms around his neck slowly and kissed him again. Never wanting the moment to stop.

Even then, you never had the courage to say those three simple words to Luke. Realizing this might be the last time you see him, dream or not. It made you sad he never heard it from you.

Maybe this will make up for it?

“I love you—I love you. I love you.” You repeated. Your voice shaky, holding back tears. This wasn’t real and you know it’s not real—but…you missed Luke. You missed him so much that it hurts. You didn’t believe he would betray Camp Half-Blood and you without Kronos’ manipulation.

“Hey…” Luke cupped your face and kissed your forehead. He grabbed your arms to sit up. It wasn’t good to cry laying down. “Don’t tear up. Everything will be okay, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you—?”

“I’m sorry, but you have the wake up.” Luke sighed and pressed his forehead with yours.

“Wait—“

“You have to wake up.” Luke grasped your hands. He held you as if this was the last time.

“What?”

“I love you very much and—and I’m so sorry for leaving you there—“

“Luke—wait!”

Your eyes shot up to be met with wooden walls of the medical cabin. Will and Annabeth shot up, ready to take necessary precautions. A dry sob left your mouth.

“Hey…” Will spoke softly.

You sat up, tears cascading down your face. You started to helplessly wipe them. You could feel his touch lingering. His hands grasping yours. Will pulled you into a soft hug when he deducted the poison was out of your system.

The mind is cruel, the poison was cruel. Fate was cruel, life was cruel.

You missed him.

You buried into Will as if it was him. Will and Annabeth thought you were crying because of the overwhelming feelings of what happened when you were poisoned.

You missed him.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan fluff

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sunsetsimon · 3 months

Note

ghost taking care of you when you’re deathly ill with food poisoning? <3

☼ your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness of your bedroom as your consciousness catches up. beads of sweat line your forehead, suddenly very aware of the painful cramping in your stomach. it twists and turns violently, preparing to jump out of your throat as you throw the blankets off of you, rushing into the bathroom. the door thuds against the frame as you shut it, too worried about not vomiting on the floor to notice the noise, dropping to your knees and emptying its contents.

simon jolts awake at the sound, his left arm reaching for you but the bed is empty. light shines under the bathroom door, signaling to simon that you must've went in a rush. he approaches the door, the sound of your retching reaching him as he gets close. pushing it open, he finds you kneeling at the toilet, coughing and spitting the remnants of last night's dinner out.

he pulls your hair back, keeping the loose strands out of your face, allowing you to clutch the toilet seat for dear life. when your stomach finally relents, you flush, leaning against the wall to catch your breath.

"y'alright?" simon asks, soaking a cloth in cold water for you to wipe your face.

"god, i feel horrible. i might be in here all night," you groan, rubbing your aching stomach as if that'd soothe your angry insides. you don't make it out for another thirty minutes, fighting the battle of food poisoning on both ends.

☼ simon stays up all night monitoring you, fetching whatever you need when you ask. rubbing your tummy to help the aching as you scroll through the tv, attempting to find something to distract from the pain. he researches home remedies to hold you over until the early shops open, making you a cup of tea to sip on after he read an article on it helping stomach pain.

he leaves early to sit in the parking lot of the store until the doors open at 6am, marking each item off of his list as he goes through the aisles. stomach medicine, electrolyte drinks, more tea, you name it - simon will get it.

☼ hurrying home to you, simon finds you in bed, finally able to sleep for half an hour while he went to the shop. he softly shakes you, rousing you from your sleep to take a dosage of medicine.

"here, dove," he whispers, handing you a glass of water to sip from before lying back down, your eyes heavy and tired from your rough night. he softly pets your hair, pushing the messy strands away from your face, helping soothe you to sleep. he stays until you finally drift off, deciding to quietly do chores around the house so you can rest up for the day. although he's not a huge caregiver or fan of being around sick people, he takes amazing care of you <3

#.wbm #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #request sun

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imtryingbuck · 7 months

Text

Dancing In The Rain

~gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: reader and Bucky dance in the rain

Word count: 927

Warnings: nothing

Masterlist

“He truly loves her, doesn’t he?” Nat speaks as she holds the cup full of hot chocolate closer to her chest.

“His thoughts are so loud whenever she’s around” Wanda leans her head on the other red heads shoulder.

Steve stands next to them watching his best friend finally find happiness “what do you mean?”

“Well when she’s not here I can’t hear anything coming from him but when she is here, it’s pure love, all the bad memories disappear because of her, he worships the ground she walks on” the smile on her face slips into a grin “and the sexy thoughts… let’s just say that’s he’s more than satisfied and creative in that department” chuckling as Steve starts blushing.

“Didn’t need to know the last part Wand.”

“Is it bad that I’m jealous of an 106 year old great grand dad with a metal arm and a staring problem?” A voice sounds from behind the trio.

“Nope not bad at all Sammy, all three of us are jealous” Winking at Nat and Steve when they give her a look.

All four of them now stand side by side, Steve speaks up again “What about her thoughts?” Curious to how the woman who’s captured his best friend’s heart really feels.

“Her thoughts are loud too. She really loves him, she’s not afraid of him in the slightest - you guys remember a few months ago when he had that really bad nightmare?-” Of course they remember that night, they all got woken up to him screaming, by the time anyone had the chance to calm him down he was up and out of the bed destroying everything in the room. He thought he was back at Hydra not realising he was at the tower and he was now safe, all of them tried to calm him down but nothing worked. Steve and Sam wore the bruises for a week as proof. It wasn’t until Nat ran back to her room to grab her phone to ring Y/n, who arrived as fast as she could, out of breath due to her taking the stairs because ‘the elevator was taking too long’. Still in her pjs, her hair was dishevelled and pure panic was written all over her face. All it took was her saying his name to stop him from throwing another punch into Sam’s already bloody face. All it took was her to gently touch his face for him to snap back into reality.

Continuing when they all nod “- she wasn’t scared of him but for him. She was scared of the situation, scared of us hating him for what had happened. But never scared of Bucky. And the other day when Peter ran into him making him spill his drink? He had to take his shirt off right, the names she calls Hydra when she saw the scar on his shoulder would make a sailor blush” chuckling at the memory of that day “She’s even thought of how she was going to make Hydra pay for what they did to her Bucky, she’d put you to shame Natty. She loves him so don’t worry Steve; she’s not going to hurt him.”

Steve smiles softly “Thankyou”

~~~

~ 20 minutes earlier ~

“No” pulling his hand away “Baby I said no, we’re not going outside. It’s raining baby and I don’t want you getting ill”

“Please Buck I want to dance in the rain!”

“You’ll get ill”

“You’ll nurse me back to health” smirking with her eyebrow raised.

“There’s no music” he copies her expression.

“Don’t need music”

“It’s raining”

“It’s romantic”

Sighing, he knows she knows he close to giving up but he’s determined to get his own way this time “No Y/n now sit that pretty arse down and watch Ricky and Morty”

“Rick and Morty”

“That’s what I said”

“No you said Ricky when it’s Rick. Anyways come and dance in the rain with me”

“Don’t even think about it” is all he says when he notices the change in her body language.

“You asked for this Bucko, you only have yourself to blame” inhaling a deep breath and exhaling slowly - she winks at him “please please please please please please please please please plea-“

“God damn it you crazy woman, let’s go then”

“Love you”

“Yeah yeah love you too”

~~~

The rain falls lightly as they make their way outside, even though he’s annoyed with himself for giving in he can’t help the smile that creeps it’s way on to his face, especially not when his girl has a huge smile on her pretty face.

Gently clasping her hands in his, he pulls her into him “have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Everyday, but tell me again” smiling up at him she makes no attempt to get rid of the raindrop that landed on her eyelashes.

“I. Love. You. More. Then. Anything” each of his words are ended with a kiss to her lips.

“I love you too James. Can we slow dance?”

“Of course, my love”

As the rain continues to fall the pair slow dance already getting drenched Bucky hums a tune, one that she doesn’t recognise. A surprised squeal escapes Y/n lips when Bucky spins her around.

“We’ve got an audience” she confesses.

“Who?”

“Wanda, Nat, Sam and Steve”

They both burst out laughing when Bucky looks up and the four Avengers standing in front of the window drops down to the floor.

“They are aware we can still see them, right?”

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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wonumatics · 8 months

Text

✰ seungcheol x gn. reader ; fluff ; 0.3k

"Are you done?"

You hum, placing your phone between your shoulder and ear as you sling your bag across your shoulder. It's later than the time you usually clock out from work.

“I'll be back in half an hour, give or take."

It will take a lot more than half an hour, given the traffic at this hour and the fact that you can't teleport. You both know that, but don't voice it.

"Okay."

The line gets cut with that. You frown, a part of you expecting a little more than 'okay' as you stare at the contact's profile, a candid photo of your boyfriend you had taken on a movie date night at home. You check your messaging app, but the last text — ill be late today :(— was sent by you at around five in the evening. Your lips quirk when you scroll past the infamous meme of the girl smiling in front of the burning house he had sent earlier that morning, the caption over the building being the name of your workplace. You had replied with the crying emoji to his #free(name) text.

Lord, you missed him.

Sighing, you walk out of the building. A little of the life working overtime sucked away returns when you walk into the streets. Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice when he matches his stride to yours.

"Looking for a cab?"

You halt, eyes widening in both recognition and surprise. Turning to your side, you face Seungcheol, the first person you wanted to see but the last person you expected to see.

"What." You blink, trying not to throw yourself at him. This was no delusion; he stood right in front of you, his ridiculously handsome face mere inches away.

Taking a deep breath, you continue. "How long were you waiting for?"

"Not for long."

You caress his cheeks, cold and tinged a light shade of pink by the night's breeze. Liar. You lean forward, hands holding his as you press your lips against his cheeks.

"I love you.''

Cheeks turning a darker shade of pink and smile widening, he mumbles back. "Love you too."

#.csc #seungcheol x y/n #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x you #seungcheol drabble #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

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chipsinsalsa · 1 year

Note

Super excited for your next peeta/josh hutcherson fic! Hoping you can make more for his role of Josh Futturman!! Keep up the amazing work!! 💗

Missing You

Josh Futturman x Fem! Reader

Plot: What happens when you catch your boyfriend doing something he's not supposed to.

A/N: Changed it up a bit last minute and decided to write a Josh Fic based upon those steamy Gifs on here from Futureman! Thank you everyone for the support and interactions once again! I love it! I do apologize if fics come in late I am super busy with work but once summer roles around ill be free as a bird! Let me know if you want more like this :) <3 (sry for any typos)

contains: smut, switch Josh, catching in act,masturbation

It had been 5 long days since you had last been inside you and your boyfriend's apartment.

You had gone to visit your mother who had gotten sick and had no one to take care of her. He couldn't come along as he was too busy working at his job as a Janitor. Which may not have been the best job but ultimately the building he worked for had a greater cause.

But after your aunt flew in to take over, you managed to come back home in one peace.

You knew Josh didn't get home from work until much much later so as soon as you came in you made yourself comfortable, throwing the luggage to the side and plopping yourself on the couch.

As you sat there, you took a deep breath and looked around the apartment. Not much had changed except a few dirty dishes in the sink which you made a mental note to clean up before Josh came home.

So you decided to take a quick shower to freshen up after your long trip.

Once you came out you wrapped a towel around your body making your way to your bedroom to change. But that's when you heard it, the sound of your name being called.

You froze for a moment, unsure if you had really just imagined it or if it was actually real. You listened carefully, but there was no sound. That was until you took another step closer and heard your name again, clear and coming from a voice that sounded almost desperate to call you.

Your heart rate began to increase as you realized it was indeed someone calling your name from the other side.

You wrapped the towel tighter around your body and cautiously made your way toward the source of the sound. Both afraid and curious you slowly opened the door to your bedroom.

That’s when you saw him, your boyfriend sitting on his gaming chair. His eyes closed, face lost in pleasure. You looked down and realized his hand was slowly stroking his cock as he called out for you.

You gasped in shock and quickly backed away from the door, crossing your legs, feeling warmth in your core.

You were shocked he was home and maybe even a little offended that out of everything he could be doing he was pleasuring himself without considering waiting for you. But on the other hand, the sight of him had turned you on, and you couldn’t deny it.

You decided to open the door again.

Josh’s eyes flew open as he saw you, he quickly tried to cover himself up. He looked embarrassed, and you could see the flush in his cheeks.

“I-I I’m sorry,” he said, barely managing the words while looking at you with apologetic eyes. “I didn’t know you were home. I-I thought you were still at your mom’s.” He spoke panting.

“You must have not heard me shower then-” You said as you took in the sight.

“I couldn’t help myself, I-I missed you,” his face now blushing uncontrollably.

You took a step closer to him, letting the towel fall from your body. “You know” you whispered, as you walked over to him climbing onto his lap.

“Now that im here,” You spoke slowly pulling off the blanket he had covered himself with, exposing his throbbing cock.

He whined at the feeling of your hands grasping it. “What did you imagine me doing to you,”

He began to whimper uncontrollably as he bucked his hips into your hand desperate for friction. “I-I fuck,” He gasped unable to speak.

You smirked as you continued to stroke him, enjoying the control you had over him. “Tell me, Josh,” you whispered in his ear. “What do you want me to do to you?”

He moaned loudly, his hands grabbing your hips tightly. “Anything,” he said breathlessly. “Anything you want, just please don’t stop.”

You leaned in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.

“Anything?” you asked, your voice low and sultry. “You missed me that much?”

He nodded eagerly, his eyes filled with desire. “Yes,” he gasped. “P-Please, dont stop.”

You smiled wickedly as you continued to stroke him, enjoying the way he writhed beneath you. “Then promise me,” you said, still whispering in his ear.. “You won't ever touch yourself again without me.”

Josh’s eyes widened at your demand, but he didn’t hesitate in his response. “I promise, I’ll do anything, just keep going please,” He begged.

You chuckled softly at his desperation, enjoying the control you had over him.

Slowly, you leaned down and captured his lips in a heated kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to stroke him. He moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with pleasure.

As you continued to kiss him, you could feel his hands beginning to roam. His hand moved up to your breast as his thumb rubbed your nipple.

You broke the kiss looking at him with a stern look. "I didn't say you could touch me yet," you spoke firmly, your hand still wrapped around his cock. "You said we could do anything I wanted?"

He looked you up and down his hands hovering over your body. “And you dont want me to touch you?”

As much as you wanted to be dominant you gave so easily into his touch. He brushed his fingers down your stomach making his way to your warmth. You shivered grinding into him. “But your already so wet-” he said teasingly before stopping abruptly. "But I won't keep touching you until you let me-”

“You can-” You spoke now craving him more than ever.

Before you could finish your sentence, Josh's lips crashed onto yours, his hands finally finding their way to your body gripping at your thighs. You couldn't help but moan into his kiss as he explored every inch of you with his hands, driving you crazy with desire.

He picked you up off the chair and onto the bed laying you down.

As he broke the kiss, he looked at you running his hands through your curves. “Now I think it's my turn to get what I want-”

Josh grinned down at you,

"And what is it that you want?" you asked, his hands still roaming your body.

"I want to be inside you," He spoke without hesitating, and he quickly positioned himself between your legs, and slowly began to insert himself into you.

As he slid inside you, you moaned loudly, feeling his hardness filling you up completely. Josh began to thrust in and out of you, his movements becoming more frantic as he got closer to the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him on as he picked up the pace, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside you that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your hands roamed over his back, scratching at his skin as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building inside you, the sensations becoming almost too much to bear.

Josh's hands moved up to your breasts, squeezing and massaging them as he continued to thrust into you with increasing urgency “You dont know how much-” He spoke between thrusts. “I fucking wanted you-”

You couldn't speak your mind lost in ecstasy.

You moaned in response, the pleasure consuming you as Josh's movements became even more frantic.

The sounds of your moans mixed with Josh's groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, creating an intense atmosphere of passion and desire.

As Josh's thrusts became faster and more powerful, you felt yourself approaching the peak of pleasure. Your body shook with ecstasy as you reached the brink of orgasm, and with a final thrust, Josh pushed you over the edge.

You cried out in pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure. Josh continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm before finally reaching his own release.

With a final moan, he collapsed on top of you, his body slick with sweat.

He turned to you caressing your face as he covered your naked body.

“As long as you dont leave me I promise to keep my hands away-”

#josh hutcherson #josh futturman #jhutch #joshhutcherson #peetamellark #peetasmut #josh hutcherson smut #future man #futureman #peeta x reader #peeta smut #peeta my beloved #peeta supremacy

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theskit · 1 year

Text

Stickers AU

Important!!!

Direct linking gets rid of the readmore cuts!

If you came here via direct link, or wish to use the direct links to another part of the story, and DO NOT want to spoil the surprise stickers, please click on my blog name to go to the actual post after using the link.

Part 7

《Prev Next》

Sitting on the hotel roof as he tried to calm down from the high-speed flight away from Batman, Danny looked over his ill-gotten gains.

Ooh, candy! Why did Batman have candy? Did he have a problem with his blood sugar? Shrugging, Danny popped a sucker into his mouth. What else did he get?

Fiddling with one piece of a thin stack of black metal, he managed to click a concealed switch that caused the sides to expand from an unobtrusive oval to razor-sharp, wing shaped edges. Ow!

Shaking the sting from his left hand, Danny inspected the thin, shallow slice on his finger before holding it to the edge of his hoodie to keep his blood off things until he got back to the room for a band-aid.

Getting the now obviously a batarang to collapse back down, Danny beamed. Score! He'd gotten four of the things, one each for himself, Ellie, Sam, and Tucker. He didn't think Jazz would mind not getting a vigilante throwing weapon as a souvenir. She usually used the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick or the Boo-Staff, having been mostly banned from long-range weaponry on account of her inheriting Dad's aim...

Shuddering, Danny banished the memories accompanied by that thought in favor of the last item. Looking it over, it seemed like an airpod? Did he grab one half of Batman's headpho-... Oh, Ancients that was a communicator! Could they track it? Who was he kidding, of *course* they could track it!

Freaking out juuuust a little, Danny stuffed everything else into his pockets, grabbed the comm unit, and high tailed it, phasing through walls and floors in his hurry to get back to the room.

Once there he dove for his luggage, pulling out the Thermos he'd brought along just in case, and dumped the ear piece in before locking it down.

There. Heaving a sigh of relief, Danny slumped down against the side of the bed he'd claimed when they first checked in. The ecto-shielding on the Thermos should block any incoming or outgoing signals until he could get Tucker to look at it and make sure no one could trace the comm back to him.

Wincing against the light as the bedside lamp on the other side of the room flared to life, he saw Jazz squinting at him fuzzily, one hand on the Anti-Creep Stick propped up on wall beside the bed. "Danny? Izzat you?"

"Yeah, Jazz, it's just me. I just got back, sorry for waking you. I'm gunna wash up and head to bed. You can go back to sleep." Danny felt bad that he'd woken Jazz up after she'd had a long day helping set up the Fenton convention booth and gently riding herd on their parents' over enthusiastic responses to the other 'ghost hunters'.

"Okay Danny, glad you're back safe. Night," Jazz mumbled as she turned out the light and laid back down. Danny smiled at her softly before turning to gather his things. It had been a good night, if more eventful than he had planned when he first went out exploring.

Batman had traced the comm unit's signal to one of the larger, more popular hotels in the area before the strangely fluctuating signal had cut out entirely.

Inspecting the roof, he caught sight of a dim glow. Kneeling down, he collected what looked to be a few drops of fresh blood with a swab kit. It appeared that whoever had taken his gear had rested here for a bit before leaving again, possibly to check what all they had taken, then finding and disabling the comm unit. He hoped they hadn't injured themselves too badly, probably on the batarangs, if it was indeed their blood he'd found.

The dimly glowing sticker, still on its backing paper with a drop of blood on the corner, caught half under an air conditioning unit, pointed to it being the same person. Picking it up, Batman inspected it for a moment before dropping it into a separate evidence bag. He'd put both samples through analysis back at the cave.

@mygood-bitch99 @stargazer-luna @easily-broken-by-emotion @dolfay @britcision @cyber-geist @is-this-even-relatable @alcorbearson @fisticuffsatapplebees @thegatorsgoose @my-mom-calls-me-rat @some-rotten-nest @crystalqueertea @meira-3919 @wandererofthestars @seraphinedemort @bjurnberg @blep-23 @stargirl1331 @bianca-hooks123 @addie-lover-of-stories @pickleking8 @iconicanemone @sarina-elais @mur-ururu @sailor-goddess @dragonfirefeather @nutcase8691 @ravenpainter

#dpxdc #theskit writes #Stickers AU #danny makes his own stickers :3 #and now danny is running around gotham like a gremlin #with a pocket full of homemade stickers #whatever will he do with them? 😈

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augustjustice · 10 months

Text

Got You By My Side

AO3 Link

Eddie is pulled from deep, dreamless darkness by the sound of a vaguely familiar voice, speaking slow and methodical in the distance.

“Then Frodo felt himself falling, and the roaring and confusion seemed to rise and engulf him together with his enemies. He heard and saw no more.”

More acutely than any of the countless times he’s read this book in the past, Eddie feels Frodo’s pain, the memory of those interdimensional monster bats screeching and clawing and flapping the last image he can conjure before that long, silent blackness overtook him.

The sweet, soothing voice lilts on, unspooling one of Eddie’s favorite stories with all the warmth of covering him in a fluffy blanket. “Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed. At first he thought that he had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps he had been ill?”

In real time, Eddie blinks his eyes open, the white ceiling overhead spinning slightly before his vision clears. Tilting his head in the direction of the sound, Eddie finds Steve Harrington sitting in an uncomfortable looking hospital chair, the battle outfit Eddie last saw him in replaced by a long-sleeve blue Henley and light wash jeans, a worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring cracked open on his knee.

Fortunately, the memories of the past few days aren’t far from the edges of Eddie’s mind, or he might think he really was dreaming.

“Harrington?” Eddie manages to call groggily, Steve’s name cracking in the middle, and, Christ, his throat feels like someone fucked it raw with a sandpaper condom.

Beside him, Steve freezes, jerking his head up to blink at Eddie with wide, startled hazel eyes. Then he’s tossing the book aside, down onto the edge of Eddie’s bed as he launches himself out of the chair.

Eddie barely has time to register the movement before Steve is throwing an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a fierce hug.

“Eddie!” Steve is so close, face pressed into Eddie’s hair, that Eddie can feel it when his warm breath tickles his neck, like he’s letting out an exhale he’s been holding in for days. “You’re awake! And about time, too, dude. We thought–we thought we lost you.”

Maybe Eddie actually did die, because this kind of overly-affectionate response from Steve totally seems like something that would be conjured up in his own private fantasy land.

Turning on a dime, the sugar-coated reverie that seems straight from Eddie’s dreams is disrupted just as quickly and abruptly as being doused awake with cold water. Because Eddie has barely had time to register the arms around him before Steve jerks back just out of reach, smacks him once lightly on the shoulder, and demands, “What the hell was that, Munson?!”

“Ow,” Eddie whines, even though Steve has done little more than jostle him, “wasn’t being mauled by demo-bats enough, man?”

“Shit!” Steve swears, and the speed with which guilt mars his expression is genuinely impressive–if a little concerning. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie reassures him automatically as Steve smooths a hand down his arm, brow furrowing with worry as he checks Eddie over. “Seriously, dude, I’m alright.”

Steve shoots him a deadpan look.

“Yeah, kinda think the doctor might disagree with you there, buddy.”

At the mention of doctors, Eddie stiffens automatically. Right, shit, he’s in a hospital. Hawkins Memorial, a public place, with people beyond the band of heroic saviors that have formed around him the past few days.

Doesn’t exactly seem like the safest place for a wanted man.

“Uh, Steve?” Steve looks at him in question. “Shouldn’t I be, like…making a break for it before, you know. The cops bust in here and haul my ass to jail?”

“Oh, that! No, dude, don’t worry,” Steve waves a dismissive hand, “you’re totally in the clear now. Hopper and the feds did their typical scary CIA shadowy cover-up deal, so you’re good to go. All the charges against you have been dropped.”

A long beat of silence falls over the room, Eddie trying to make sense of the sentence.

“...You’re talking about the late chief of police, right? That Jim Hopper.”

Steve scratches a finger over his sideburn, tilting his head to one side as though he’s only now registering the sheer absurdity of what he just said.

“Yeah, so, turns out…not as dead as we thought, apparently.”

“Okay, well…cool. Cool, cool, cool,” Eddie mutters to himself.

The last time he had seen the police chief, he’d been giving Eddie a fairly strong warning about local speed limits and not giving everyone on the road additional white hairs. He’s too afraid of the answer to ask if Hopper had come back from the dead or not.

Clearing his throat awkwardly helps Eddie register again just how damn dry it is.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the emotional whiplash of this reunion, man, but,” Eddie rubs a hand uselessly at his Adam’s apple, “I kinda think I might be dying of thirst here.”

Steve is up like a shot all over again, quickly filling a small paper cup with water from the sink in one corner of the room. As Eddie sits up to take the proffered drink from him, he can’t help but let out a pained hiss, his abdomen burning from the sudden shift in his position.

“Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy, man!” Steve chides.

He does that a lot, Eddie has noticed, guiding the freshmen brats, even Eddie himself through battlefields and portals and the horrors of the Upside Down with a hand hovering near their backs as if he’s going to catch them if they fall, all the time tutting like a nervous mother hen.

It’s stupidly endearing, which is something Eddie never thought he would think.

“I promised Henderson I’d watch you like a hawk,” Steve says, pressing Eddie back into the pillows with a gentle hand, “so lay back and just let me help you, okay? Jesus.”

Eddie can’t quite suppress his grin at the way Steve fusses, tutting as he helps guide the small cup of water up to Eddie’s mouth, scolding him with a quick, “You’re gonna spill that if you’re not careful, Eds.”

If the Eddie of two weeks ago could see him now, he would not believe it.

As Eddie drains the cup eagerly, Steve absently tells him to wait right there and then disappears into the hallway.

Eddie snorts, even though there’s no one around to hear it.

Yeah. Like he’s going anywhere in the state he’s in.

When Steve gets back, he’s not alone, his boyish charm having apparently summoned a nurse from whatever front desk she was manning. Eddie puts on a brave face as she checks him over carefully–vitals, flashlights shined in his eyes, the works–and compliments his progress with a genuineness he definitely wasn’t expecting to find inside Hawkins city limits ever again.

Once she leaves again with a promise to send in the doctor as soon as possible, Steve is tugging the chair right back up to Eddie’s side, now turned around so he’s sitting in it backwards. He studies Eddie, wide brown eyes shining with genuine concern that makes something inside Eddie flutter, despite how desperately he tries to tamp down the feeling.

“How’re you feeling? Seriously?”

“Kinda like somebody ran me through a wood chipper,” Eddie admits, gesturing to the gauze bandages draped all up and down his body.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Steve actually looks apologetic, like he’s somehow responsible.

Ridiculous, the guy is ridiculous. Eddie can’t believe how wrong he was, that he really thought Steve was just some callous, arrogant rich kid, like…a week ago.

“Looks like you’re now an official member of the ‘Upside Down bat chow’ club.”

“Well, hey,” Eddie inclines his head towards Steve’s chest, “at least I’m in good company.”

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgment, tugging his Henley up just far enough for Eddie to see the contrast of white bandages against his tan bare skin. Eddie forces his eyes not to linger, breath hitching in a way that has nothing to do with pain.

“But, you know, maybe you wouldn’t be if you’d just listened to me,” Steve points out petulantly as he drops the hem of his shirt.

Spell broken, Eddie lets out a huff of laughter.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re kinda insufferable, Harrington?”

“Takes one to know one,” Steve shoots back easily before the stern edge seeps back into his voice. “I thought I told you not to be a hero, man. Why did you do that?”

“You really wanna know the answer to that?” Eddie asks, sobering slightly. When Steve nods, he takes a deep breath and barrels on. “Well, I just asked myself, ‘What would Steve Harrington do?’ and even though I would have scoffed three days ago…seemed like the most obvious answer.”

Steve lets out a disbelieving noise, rolling his eyes, which startles another laugh out of Eddie.

“I’m serious, dude! You’ve got this whole…level twelve Barbarian, tearing into bats with your teeth th–” at Steve’s confused look, he amends, “I mean, uh this…badass, action hero at the end of the world thing going for you, and, when I realized you guys still needed a distraction, I just thought…I’d channel a little bit of that, overcome my own natural cowardly tendencies to run.”

“Man, I seriously can’t believe you,” Steve is shaking his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He reaches forward, nudging Eddie’s leg gently. “I’ve got news for you, Eddie. Cowards? Don’t do that.”

Eddie shrugs sheepishly, tugging a strand of hair up to his mouth to chew on, not quite sure how to take the compliment.

Steve smiles at him a beat longer, not saying anything. Then, his eyes seem to cloud over, expression growing distant like he’s lost in thought.

Eddie fidgets, playing with his rings as one hand taps an uneven rhythm against the blanket, feeling pinned with Steve’s eyes still settled on him. Finally, he breaks the silence.

“Earth to Stevie,” he waves a hand in front of Steve’s face, watches the way he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he had just slipped into, “where’d you go, man?”

Steve bites his lip, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed about being caught.

“Just thinking.”

Eddie leans towards Steve, eyebrows raised, expression expectant.

“...about?” he finally sing-songs, drawing the word out in a needling tone, not able to take the suspense a second longer.

“I ran, too, you know,” Steve says quietly, the mood in the room sobering immediately. At Eddie’s questioning look, he continues, “The first time, with Nancy and Jonathan. That thing came out of the walls, and Nancy told me to run–that’s what I was talking about, how she almost shot me that one time–and…I did. I ran. This shit is scary as hell, man.”

Eddie sucks in his bottom lip, mulling over Steve’s words.

“But…you came back,” he hedges, guessing, but based on everything he’s seen from Steve, he’d bet money he’s right. “I mean, total assumption on my part, but–”

He waves a hand in Steve’s direction, a silent here you are.

“Yeah, sure, I did. But so did you when it mattered. There–” Steve shoots Eddie a pained, apologetic look, “look, Eddie, with Chrissy…I know you don’t want to hear it, but there was nothing you could have done at that point. And if the cops had found you there, you probably would have ended up in jail. But you went back to distract the demo-bats. You kept them away from us when we were going after Vecna. So. Guess that makes you a hero, too.”

Steve huffs out a weak little laugh.

“Even though, like I just said, I explicitly told you not to be one.”

“What, you expect me to start taking orders now from Steve Harrington?” Eddie teases, eyes sparkling. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain, man.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, screw your reputation, no more pulling death-defying stunts like that, alright? Cuz I might not be around next time to pull you out of it. Besides, you’re way too important to the kids for that shit.”

“What, you want me to leave all the monster-hunting to the experts, Harrington?”

“No, dude,” Steve reaches over and shoves Eddie lightly, the movement careful, his hand big and warm where it wraps around Eddie’s shoulder, “I just don’t want you to die, okay?”

Those kind brown eyes are on him again, drinking Eddie in like Steve was afraid he might never see him again. It’s all too much, the feeling that this is all really just some fantasy come to life trickling in again, and Eddie has to avert his gaze, swiveling his head as he lets out a sound caught somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle.

“Well, hey,” he deflects, sweeping a hand over the bandages covering his stomach and torso before tapping just below the mauled spot on his cheek, “At least I took the ‘don’t be cute’ part to heart, right, Harrington?”

Steve finally releases his shoulder, but his eyes are still trained on Eddie. Eddie thinks the scars are going to end up looking pretty badass, sure, but…there’s still an edge of insecurity lurking just below the surface of his bravado. He hopes Steve can’t see it, ferret out the cracks in his performance.

But he suspects he can.

They haven’t known each other long, not actually known each other, at least, but Eddie’s gathered in that short time, just from the easy way he fell into answering Eddie’s questions, anticipating what he needed to know, that Steve picks up on a lot more than most people give him credit for.

“Yeah, no,” Steve’s shaking his head, floppy waves falling across his forehead, “Pretty sure you’re literally incapable of not being cute, Munson.”

Something in Eddie’s chest seizes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Steve is totally flirting with him, even his faux-annoyed tone not seeming too far off the mark from a bit of pig-tail pulling.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Eddie quips back, because he’d started flirting with Steve in the Upside Down with all the devil-may-care gusto that came from knowing he might die tomorrow and now apparently he’s chronically incapable of stopping.

Steve has his arms crossed over the back of the chair, his chin propped up on them, looking irritatingly nonchalant and cool. Which…Eddie guesses is a lot better than looking like he’s seconds away from hauling off and punching him, but it’s still making him nervous.

He lifts one shoulder, a casual half-shrug, and then says, like he’s not tilting Eddie’s entire world on its axis, “Just the pretty ones.”

Eddie’s entire face heats up, flushing to the roots of his hair.

He can’t remember the last time he felt this flustered and tongue-tied. Probably not since Chrissy Cunningham deigned to smile at him, wide and sincere, at the middle school talent show, he realizes with a bittersweet pang.

“The rumors are true,” he manages to squeak out, “you’re a smooth talker, Harrington.”

Steve grins, wide and bright, looking inordinately pleased with himself. It’s the happiest Eddie thinks he’s seen him since this entire thing started.

“So they tell me,” he agrees, and then has the audacity to wink at Eddie, the bastard.

Eddie isn’t even sure where to go in the conversation from there. Usually, he’d like to think, he’s not too bad at this, can flirt and tease with the best of them. Hell, he has been flirting with Steve on and off for the past few days.

But that was before he lived, and before Steve, to Eddie’s complete confusion, started giving as good as he got, coming back with lines when previously he had been the one blushing and batting Eddie shyly away.

Fortunately, Steve cocks his head to one side, considering, and then breaks the silence for him.

“You know,” he starts, voice soft, “I was jealous of you, too.”

Eddie gawps at him like a fish, nearly as surprised as he had been by what seemed to be Steve’s undeniable flirting. When he manages to get some small semblance of control over himself again, he lets out a short, disbelieving bark of laughter.

“Steve Harrington, jealous? And of little ole me?” he presses a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes briefly, a theatrical display to cover up the genuine shock still coursing through him. “Why the hell were you jealous, Harrington?”

The corners of Steve’s mouth turn upwards, a self-deprecating twist to them as he reaches up and runs a hand up through that infamous hair of his. Eddie tries not to let his train of thought get derailed wondering if those locks are as soft as they look, how they might feel running through Eddie’s own fingers.

“It’s gonna sound…so stupid. It’s just that…Henderson, you know, he’s a complete and total pain in my ass, but he’s also–he’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a little brother. And, I don't know. I guess the kid did kind of have stars in his eyes around me when I first started looking out for him. Except, it didn't feel like it did when all those kids in high school wanted to hang around just because I was popular and I could get them status, or because I had a big empty house full of free booze. It felt like it…mattered.

“But after they started back to school this year and joined up with Hellfire, he and Sinclair and Wheeler, they just went on and on about you, man, how cool they all thought you were, how you ran their little fantasy board game or whatever and they were all super into it, and I guess I just started to worry I was being…replaced. Like they were all growing up, and they wouldn’t need me in their life now that they had found somebody better to look up to.

“And I started to remember how you were in school. You were just so–unapologetically yourself, like you never gave a shit what people thought about you. Back then, I could never do that, and I guess…I started to wish that I had. Been more like you, I mean,” Steve looks up at him then, with a soft smile that would have broken the hearts of a thousand Hankins High girls. "So, yeah. Guess I got a little jealous, Eddie. That I was being replaced by Eddie 'the Freak' Munson."

Steve winces a little on the name, looking sheepish.

"Except it turns out, Henderson was right all along. Eddie Munson? Actually a totally great guy," he claps a hand over Eddie’s knee, giving it a fond squeeze.

Eddie blinks at him, dumbfounded into silence.

“Come on, dude,” Steve says quietly, the tips of his ears going pink as he jostles Eddie’s leg lightly, “don’t just leave me hanging out on a limb here. Say something.”

“That–was the most surreal thing that’s happened to me this week. And,” Eddie holds up a finger, “I’d like to remind you, an interdimensional portal opened up in the ceiling of my trailer.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, nervous at the edges.

“It wasn’t that weird,” he protests.

“Oh, no, man, it totally was. You, Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, just admitted, out loud, that you wished you were more like me, Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. That ranks in…at least the top ten weirdest moments of my entire life.”

Steve nudges Eddie again.

“Forget I said anything.”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie tells him with a wide, dimpled grin. Then, he places his hand over Steve’s wrist, jostling him right back. “You come up with that pretty speech all by yourself, Steve?”

The smile Steve shoots him is lopsided.

"I had a little help from a friend."

"Oh, so," Eddie waves a hand between the two of them, "we're friends now?"

The glint in Steve’s eye turns mischievous. "Just think how much it will freak everyone in town out."

Eddie throws back his head, letting out a delighted cackle.

"Harrington, you’ve really got a way of persuading a man."

They grin at each other for a moment, soaking in their own giddiness. Eddie thinks dizzily that this must be karma’s way of paying him back for some of the worst of it, the past few days of vicious bats tearing into him and a mob on his heels. And some part of him thinks it almost makes up for it, the terror and the pain still radiating in his side, if it only means Steve Harrington’s going to keep smiling at him like that.

"Are you still jealous, Stevie?" he asks, and despite the goading edge to the words, his question is sincere.

"Nope,” Steve pops the ‘p’ with his lips, “Not anymore. If anything, it sounds kind of nice, having another pair of hands on deck to help corral those little runts when they get out of hand. It's like herding cats sometimes, I swear."

"Yeah," Eddie falters. Steve’s words concretize the promise of friendship he’s offering, conjuring up a real, solid image of that karmic more Eddie was just imagining. "I guess that doesn't sound too bad. But careful, Harrington. Might start to sound like we're married, or something."

Eddie recognizes the way Steve ducks his head, a faint blush spreading over his cheeks, from their conversation in the Upside Down woods, and he knows this time that he’s been the one to hit the head on the flirtatious nail.

“Speaking of, where are Henderson and the other munchkins, anyway?” he asks, momentarily steering the conversation back to safer waters. “Earlier, you said something about him forcing you to look after me?”

“Okay, first of all, I did not say forced,” Steve argues, his lips drawing down into that disgruntled, petulant frown Eddie has started to grow stupidly fond of. “But, Dustin…yeah, he’s alright. He was here ‘til visiting hours ended last night. Mrs. Henderson had to practically drag him away so he’d go home and get some rest.”

The memories come rushing back, Dustin limping to Eddie’s side to hold him in what he thought were going to be his final moments, and relief washes over him.

“Which is why I’m on babysitting duty today,” Steve adds.

“Well, that is your job now, right?” Eddie teases. “Babysitter extraordinaire.”

“Yeah, yeah. No TV after dinner unless you eat all your vegetables, Munson,” Steve wags a finger at him for the full effect, and Eddie has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, “and don’t you forget it.”

“How ‘bout Team Kate Bush and the rest of the Vecna Slaying Squad…they alright?”

The way Steve’s face sobers immediately, mouth pulling into a taut, grim line is enough to make Eddie flinch in anticipation.

“I mean, everybody made it out in one piece, except…Max is in a coma. She’s a few doors down.”

Steve nods his head in the direction of Red’s room, and Eddie feels like he’s been doused in a bucket of cold water.

“Shit. Shit. Do they know when–?”

Steve shakes head, anticipating the end of Eddie’s sentence. He’s immensely grateful that he does, because he’s not sure he could have finished it.

“The doctors–they aren’t sure yet,” Steve admits, running a finger over his top lip, looking as tense as Eddie feels. “I checked in on her this morning, before I came down to sit with you, and she was…stable, pretty much the same as she has been. Lucas was there. I think he’d stay around the clock if they’d let him.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie notes softly.

The boys had told him, about Sinclair and the tough little red-head who lived just across the way, their on-again, off-again romance that was very much off by the time Eddie met them.

But he’d gotten to see it first hand, the last couple of days, the way the two were practically attached at the hip, circling around each other, getting closer and closer. He had to agree with the whispered, giggled assessment he’d overheard Nancy and Robin make during their impromptu RV road trip. They really were cute.

His chest panged at the thought of hard-headed, mouthy Max laid up in a hospital bed, silent and still. Eddie felt like he was too fucking young for this shit, so the fact that this band of brave, fresh-faced little sheepies had to deal with it? Was too unfair for words.

“But, hey. We already had one miracle today, right?” Steve pats a hand on Eddie’s leg. “You’re awake. So, who knows, maybe another one is…right around the corner.”

“You make…an excellent point, Harrington. Can’t stop believing in the impossible now,” Eddie reaches out, places a hand over Steve’s wrist for a second and squeezes. “Red’s steely. Way tougher than I am. Hopefully she’ll be back up and at ‘em in no time.”

The half-smile Steve gives him is a grateful one, and Eddie returns it easily, letting his fingers linger where they’re pressed into Steve’s warm skin, reveling in the fact that Steve seems no more eager to shake him off than Eddie is to pull away. Finally, he pulls his arm up and away, still tingling with the phantom sensation of holding onto Steve for even that one moment.

Steve’s lips part, like he’s about to say something…but then he’s snapping his fingers, a stricken expression coming over his face.

“Oh, shit, I meant to tell you already,” he runs a hand over his forehead, fingers combing up through his hair in a gesture that seems almost…sheepish, “Hop also promised the Feds were gonna loop your uncle in on…well, not everything, obviously, but on where you were, at least. I’m not sure when they’re gonna tell him. Soon, hopefully.”

At the mention of his uncle, Eddie’s heart gives a painful, hopeful little lurch in his chest.

“Christ, Uncle Wayne,” he mutters. Screwing his eyes shut as he buries his face in his hands for a moment, he feels like he’s taking that first desperate lungful of air you gulp down after you’ve been holding your breath for ages. “It’ll be…so fucking good to see him, man.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Steve agrees softly.

Eddie wonders if he just imagined it, that brief stiltedness in Steve’s voice, the stiffness of his posture, there and gone so quickly it’s impossible to tell.

“And Robin’s supposed to stop by later, her parents are gonna drop her off. She said she’d bring up some lunch. So pretty soon you’ll have more than just this handsome mug around for company,” Steve circles his face with a finger, an amused smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Aww, but I like that face of yours, Harrington,” Eddie needles, walking that exact same line between ribbing and flirtation. He’s pretty damn proud of the blush he manages to prompt across Steve’s cheeks. “Okay, so, Buckley and the shrimps are all accounted for, but…where’s Wheeler?”

Steve’s mouth draws downwards, brow furrowing.

“Oh, uh, which one? Mike, or–Nancy?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, and, he’s not proud to admit it, but a little ripple of envy washes over him. It’s that same spike of jealousy that had reared its ugly head in the Upside Down, when he tossed his vest to Steve to break up the burgeoning couple’s moment, stop their familiar, playful banter.

He’s the one that brought it up, but it still serves as a bracing reality check–Steve’s flirtation with him is probably little more than a distraction, something Hawkins’ resident Casanova in all likelihood doesn’t even realize he’s doing.

"Your betrothed, of course,” Eddie’s voice comes out sounding harsher than he means for it to, far more like it does when he’s pushing the buttons of the resident jocks from the top of a cafeteria table. “When's the wedding, by the way?"

Steve frown deepens, looking taken aback, like he’s been pushed off-kilter. And even though that’s usually the very reaction Eddie is looking for, in that moment, he feels kinda like he should apologize for being an asshole when Steve’s honestly been nothing but nice to him.

Steve doesn’t give him the chance.

“Nancy’s with Jonathan,” he says slowly.

Eddie wilts, feeling even guiltier than before.

“Hey, man,” he stretches his hand out uselessly, his instinct to reach out with another soothing touch even though he’s not sure he deserves to. Before he can make contact, he lets his fist drop to the thin mattress, holding himself back. “I’m sorry.”

The fucked up thing is, he means it. Steve’s a great guy, and even after only a few days of getting to know him, Eddie knows, deep down in his chest, that if anyone deserves to be happy? It’s him.

Steve shakes his head, and now he’s the one looking annoyed, and, maybe, just a tiny bit frustrated.

"No–no, dude,” he slashes his hands through the air, like he’s calling a…time out, or something, as if they’re in one of his sports games. “There's nothing to be sorry for. It isn't like that."

And even if he is trying to be less of a dick, Eddie can’t help but raise a skeptical eyebrow at that.

“Yeah, okay, Harrington,” he says doubtfully, “I mean, I saw the two of you down there. The looks you were giving each other–that’s the kind of stuff people write songs about, man.”

“You’re seriously not listening to what I’m saying, dude.” Chin propped up on his arm, Steve gives yet another exasperated roll of his big, far too pretty eyes. But then his expression smooths out, something contemplative in the line of his mouth. “I thought about it a lot, you know, what you said. What everyone was saying, really. About signs of true love and all that. And the thing is, diving down there after me–Nancy would have done that for any of us. Robin, the kids…she’d have done it for you.”

Eddie doesn't know how to describe it, the feeling that washes over him with the realization that Steve's "us" had included him.

"Me and Nance? We’re just friends, okay? That’s all we’ve been for a long time, now. And the idea that we should try and be anything more than that…chalk it up to temporary insanity caused by demo-bat bites and the threat of the world ending. Again."

Shocked and a little chastised by the revelation, all Eddie can manage to let out is a soft, “...Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve gives him a pointed look, like he’s been a total dumbass about things, which feels…pretty fair, if he’s being honest. “Oh.” Then, in an undertone that makes it seem like maybe he’s just talking to himself, he murmurs, "Besides, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even want kids."

"...What?" Eddie asks, wondering if whatever sweet, sweet pain reliever they've got him on means he missed a step in the conversation.

"Nevermind," Steve dismisses, rubbing a hand over the nape of his neck as his eyes briefly dart toward the ceiling, avoiding Eddie’s gaze, “The point is…there’s nothing going on there. Really.”

“I–yeah, I, um. Got that. Now,” Eddie assures him. “That’s…good, Harrington. I mean, just so long as…you’re alright with it, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Honestly, I am. Things with Nancy…they didn’t work out for a reason. We just weren’t right for each other, in the long run. And I do still want to, you know…to find ‘the one,’ I guess. Somebody who really gets me, who just…fits,” he steeples his fingers together, imitating puzzle pieces interlocking, “slides right into place, kinda like they’ve been there the whole time. Like it was with Robin, and the kids–only romantic, this time, of course–but, like…that feeling you get when somebody comes into your life and…you honestly can’t even remember what it was like before, without them. Does-Does that make sense?”

The way his eyes dart over to Eddie, a spark of anxiety in them, it feels like…it matters, to Steve, that it does.

“No, yeah, I totally follow you, man. That all sounds…pretty awesome, honestly.” And even though Eddie has vocally branded himself as a cynic for years now when it comes to romance, it honestly does, making something flutter in his chest at the picture Steve has painted. He ducks his head, hiding behind the sweep of his bangs as he asks, “You, uh…you got anybody particular in mind to play the starring role in your future love life?”

When he risks a glance back up at Steve, he finds himself on the receiving end of that same look so familiar to the many swooning girls of Hawkins, a confident tilt to the pink curve of Steve’s lips, the glimmer in his dark eyes knowing but sweet.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think maybe I do,” Steve leans forward on the back of his chair, conspiratorial as he lowers his voice, “Now, all I gotta do is figure out if they’re interested too.”

Twisting a strand of hair absently around his finger, Eddie lets out a nervous giggle, the sound coming embarrassingly close to a titter. “Come on, man. You’re Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington. It’s pretty much a guarantee with you.”

“You’d be surprised,” Steve snorts. Then, he bites his lip, expression tetchy with a new anxious, anticipatory sort of energy. “Hey, I’ve, uh…got something for you.”

The next moment, his face disappears. Eddie attempts to lean forward, see exactly what it is Steve’s doing, but the straining feeling in his stomach won’t let him. Accepting defeat, he contents himself with tugging on a loose string on the starch white hospital sheets, trying–and failing–not to wiggle in place impatiently.

When Steve pops back up again, he’s holding a plastic War Zone shopping bag Eddie can only assume was tucked somewhere beneath the chair he’s been sitting in. After plopping the item gently in Eddie’s lap, Steve reaches inside and pulls out one denim corner, tugging the piece of clothing out to show him.

It’s Eddie’s battle vest, the one he had abandoned in the RV when they marched off into their own real life battle.

“I haven’t had a chance to wash it,” Steve’s nose wrinkles slightly at the blood stains, left behind from his own scarring over bites, “I can do that for you, if you want. Before you get out of here.”

Eddie looks from the vest–outfitted with all his painstakingly selected pins and patches–to Steve, then back again. He remembers how Steve had looked in the darkness of the Upside Down, hair wild, open wounds and chest hair barely covered underneath the denim flaps. Like some otherworldly warrior.

“You can keep it,” he says, looking right at Steve as he nudges the bag in his direction, “it looks better on you anyway.”

“No, man, come on,” Steve argues weakly, once again demonstrating Eddie’s newfound ability to fluster the Steve Harrington, a skill he’s definitely planning to continue taking full advantage of, “it’s your thing, I-I can’t–”

“Hey, man, I’m serious,” Eddie catches Steve’s hand in his own, a gesture that might be a casual, jocular exchange except that Eddie keeps his grip firm, the touch lingering, “you keep it, Steve.”

He swipes his thumb once over Steve’s pulse point, a reflexive, absent movement that draws Steve’s gaze downward. When he pulls his hand back, the fizzle of energy remains in the air around them, electrifying.

Steve ducks his head, almost shy as he tucks the vest back into the bag.

“Alright,” he agrees quietly, “far be it from me to argue with the invalid.”

“That’s right,” Eddie crows, triumphant. He snaps his fingers in the air for emphasis, letting some of his showy, over-the-top dramatics come back into his demeanor to dispel the intensity of the moment. “Patient privilege, Harrington. Besides,” he shrugs, trying to maintain a cool, casual air so he won’t choke on his next words, “now you can wear it to Corroded Coffin’s next show.”

Cocking an eyebrow at Eddie, Steve lets a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. “Oh, so I’m invited to see you play now, huh? Not afraid I’ll cramp your style?”

Eddie shakes his head, earnest. “Couldn’t possibly, Stevie boy. You’ll be the most metal person there, since I’m pretty sure no one else is gonna have ripped apart a bat with nothing but their teeth. Not unless Ozzy suddenly breaks down in the middle of Bumfuck, Indiana.”

Though Steve looks mostly bemused, there’s also a faint, pleased flush of pink dusting his cheeks. “You know I still have no idea who that is, right?”

“Oh, don’t worry, big boy,” Eddie gives his arm a quick pat. “As soon as I’m outta here, I’ll teach you.”

“Alright, Eds, you’re on,” Steve agrees, dipping his head, almost coy as he looks up at Eddie through his lashes, “It’s a date.”

Despite the casual way Steve threw out the offer, like it’s no big deal, Eddie’s pulse trips into double time, racing in his chest.

“Cool,” he says, dazed, and, embarrassingly enough, he has to clear his throat when his voice cracks a little, “yeah, okay, cool. It’s a date, then, Stevie.”

Fortunately, having Steve Harrington beam at him makes sounding like a complete idiot totally worth it.

They sit in the silence for a moment after, just smiling at each other dopily. If anyone else could see them right now, their respective reputations really would be in tatters.

Eddie thinks that’s alright with him.

Despite the giddy energy in the room, however, a wave of exhaustion washes over Eddie, like the adrenaline from everything has finally gone out of him. He yawns, pressing the back of his hand over his mouth to try and stifle it.

Steve shifts in his chair, alert as he scoots a little closer, that now familiar concerned look settling over his face.

“Tired?” he asks.

“More than I thought I was, I guess,” Eddie admits, albeit begrudgingly.

“Yeah, well, surviving heroic stunts will do that to you.”

“You’d know all about it, wouldn’t ya, Stevie?” Eddie yawns again, not bothering to hide it this time, just grimacing a little when the motion stretches his side. “Besides, think maybe you wore me out, big boy, with all this sparkling conversation.”

The tips of Steve’s ears tinge, pretty and red.

“Want me to keep reading to you instead?” he offers, picking up the paperback from the edge of the bed and waving it at Eddie.

In the name of pure, good old fashioned antagonism, Eddie can’t help but tease, "I didn't know you could read, Harrington.”

"Hey, butt head," Steve smacks half-heartedly at his leg with the paperback, "which one of us graduated, you or me?"

"Point taken," Eddie laughs, light and pleased with himself, "but who said I could read?"

Steve cocks an eyebrow at him, the corner of his mouth twitching, like he’s fighting back a laugh of his own. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” Eddie sing-songs, parroting Steve from earlier. Then his eyes go round, inching forward on the bed excitedly. "Will you do the voices? Oh please please pretty please tell me you'll do the voices."

Steve’s face scrunches up, adorably lost. "What voices?"

Eddie slaps a hand to his forehead, flopping dramatically back onto the thin hospital mattress as best he can.

"What voices? ‘What voices,’ he says. Oh, Steven–"

"Steve," Steve corrects automatically.

"Steven," Eddie continues, ignoring him, "say it ain’t so."

“What?” he huffs, but a smile has crept back onto his face. “Stop speaking in riddles, dude, this isn’t one of your games.”

“The character voices, man! What else?”

“Oh, right, the character voices,” Steve repeats, deadpan. “Eddie, how the hell am I supposed to do some sort of voices for a book I’ve never even read before?”

“Steven,” Eddie says solemnly, ignoring Steve’s eye roll, “it’s simply not The Lord of the Rings if you’re not doing a full, dramatic reading of it.”

“Well, jeeze, teach me how to do them, then,” Steve challenges, flipping the paperback around to hand over to Eddie.

“Alrighty, big boy,” Eddie takes it, then pats the empty side of the mattress, “hop on up, and I will.”

Steve pauses, seeming surprised, and in that moment’s hesitation, Eddie wonders if he’s going to gently brush him off. But then he’s standing, rounding the bed to the side where Eddie’s palm is still resting, and gracefully sliding in beside him.

“This okay?” he asks, careful of Eddie’s side even as he wraps an arm around his shoulders to help get them comfortable, shifting close enough the book can rest open across both their laps.

“Mmm hmm,” Eddie hums, basking in the warmth that comes from having Steve pressed right against him, the clean scent of his cologne wafting through the air.

He gestures down to the paperback with a flourishing hand.

"Now, transfix me with your magnificent storytelling skills, oh brilliant wordsmith."

Steve shakes his head, letting out a snort of laughter this time.

"You are so weird."

“Aww, but you like it, Stevie boy.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a shrug of one shoulder, so earnest and unabashed it nearly takes Eddie’s breath away, “I do.”

Steve begins to read again then, voice loud and clear. And as the pair of them giggle and bicker over the book, Eddie interjecting corrections in the form of line readings in his particular theatrical cadence and Steve’s own performance getting sillier and more over-the-top the longer it goes on, for the first time in more than a week, Eddie knows deep down in his gut…that everything is gonna turn out just fine.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my stuff #my things #my fic

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schizoidcel · 1 month

Text

## BOOTHILL x READER ★

🤍 ﹒ HEADCANONS ! ! . .

－ notes ̽ ۪⠀written before his release + gn reader huhu. yall i swear ill get to the lcb requests but im brainrotting too fucking much right now boothill is colonizing my mind so enjoy these thoughts i had and will throw into the tags

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

He's a little spoon and NOBODY can convince me otherwise period.

We know damn well hes touch starved. So ofcourse he'd wanna be nuzzled up inbetween your chest and chin

Will teach you how to ride a horse. He definitely has a favourite (his name is Sebastian 🌚🌚)

Very protective over him though. You will not ride on that horse until you are months into the relationship

He gave you another horse to practice riding on and an extra horse incase the other "knocks your socks off" ... Whatever that means

You named them Yee and Haw and he was so conflicted with his emotions that he considered getting a routine check up on his body

Will tease you if you completely fuck up immediately.

He grabs your hands to gesture on things you should be wary about while being on the back of a horse, knowing it'll mess your brain up and lead you to not pay attention to a single thing coming out of his mouth

On the other hand if you're able to handle it in a short amount of time, he'll start flirting with you

"I'm doing it, Boo!" "Nice work, honeybunch. Think ya can manage ridin' somethin' else?" "Dude"

It's one or the other. You will not escape the Boothill down bad programm

Boothill also acts like a himbo to mess around with you.

On another note, you called him Bootyhill once and he's still shook up. Whether /pos or /neg is up to interpretation

While we're on the topic of nick/pet names, he calls you things you've never heard of before .

Or even if you did, they're things you expected never to be called 😭

What the fuck is a doodlebug Boothill

Type of man to get flustered when you flirt back. He just starts bugging out

Will play it cool though, but the faint blue on his cheeks says otherwise

Also a fan of headpats. No, he's not ashamed. No, he will not tell you.

Expanding on the no shame, Boothill takes it to the extreme

No filter, no mask, no nothing. Touchy EVERYWHERE you go

Even if he can't really feel it, he just feels more at ease when you both are near eachother or touch one another. Man wants to protect his partner, after all

It dosen't matter if you're able to protect yourself, the gesture just makes him feel more comfortable and calm

Also has a hair pulling kink woah. Let's keep it sfw everybody

Forehead kisses ❤️ or just kisses anywhere on his head in general. Kiss behind his ears and he will overheat

He let's you play with his hair<3 It's one of his favourite passtimes with you

Braid it, tie it in a ponytail, give him buns, pigtails, curl them, decorate them with hairpins, clip bows in his strands it don't matter PLAY WITH HIS HAIR ⁉️

He relaxes SO MUCH it's insane. Genuinely just one finger goes into that hair of his and he melts

This plays into the little spoon factor

You'd tease him about it but he takes pride in it 😭

Has a weird obsession with biting. If you complain that it hurts he goes "What, want me to smooch the pain away?" and he does this fuckass face :3 while you're just staring at him dead in the eye (you say yes btw)

If you're ticklish, he's hell for you

Tickles you in the most random times possible.

And you know it's even WORSE with those cold ass metalic hands

You're cuddling? The sides of your torso are not safe. You're currently occupied with an activity involving your hands? Your armpits are not safe either. He's laying on your bare stomache face down? He starts blowing raspberries.

You know damn well he uses the feathers of his hat 😭

Sticks it up your nose to make you sneeze too. Usually to wake you up or some shit

You could have the most volcano eruption alert level 5 sneeze and he'd still say "Aww, ya sneeze like a kitten!"

One last note this man is a whiney loser bottom not sorry

the word ill is in boothill for a reason the way im laying in bed all sweaty ANYway 🌚😵😵😵😵

ૢ་༘࿐ thank you for reading ! Ⳋ᧙

#boothill x reader #bruh #i feel so insane #and normal #normaling #ok wer e done. im out. goodbye hsr community thisll be my only contribution #proof reading and looking at the eidolon i used for the header why nobody draw him with those glasses yet🧐🧐

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cathers-world · 8 months

Text

Wilbur NSFW alphabet

Warnings:NSFW (duh)

Afab

Not proof read!

+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

A: After care

So sweet will cuddle you give you kisses gets water makes sure you use the bathroom<3

B: Belt

I SAID IT ONCE ILL SAY IT AGAIN (and maybe write a one shot about it) he will spank you with his belt and if your bad spank you on your clit

C: Cum

loves loves LOVES cumming in you likes watching his cum drip out your pussy AND WHEN YOU SWALLOW IT UGH

D: degration

Will call you his pretty little slut, whore, doll, and cum slut, things like that

E: expedition

Will take you anywhere but would rather your house/apartment

F: Face fucking

100% will make you faint by shoving his dick down your throw for too long, also because he has his weird taste thing if your self conscious about like “tasting bad” he would feel bad that you felt that and he wouldn’t really care about what you tasted like he just wants to eat AHHAAHHA

G: glutton

HEHEHEH like the other he would go DOWN just eat you up like a little cupcake

H: Hair

This is a silly one but I’ve also said this but pushing his hair out of the way as he’s rearranging your guts and just seeing his big ass four head-

I: intimacy

I feel like he would wanna go out for a little bit till you guys fuck

J: jiggle

HE WOULD LOVE CHUBBY GIRLS (I’m DEFINITELY not chubby and biased) but like seeing you cubby bouncing just AHHH

K: Kitten

This is a me directed thing, if you couldn’t tell by my user name my full names Catherine and so I sometimes go by Cat and just like him calling me kitty/kitten<<<<333

L: Length

He’s long have you seen the Tom Simon’s total wipeout vlog LIKE OMG FUCK ME TILL I CANT BREATHE

M: Minutes

I feel like the longest would be 1 hour because he doesn’t wanna hurt you

N: Neck

NECK KISSES!!!

O: Outside

Like I said he likes the privacy of your own home, but like if you had a garden-

P: Punishment

Like I said belt, but this is a little dark but like waterboarding- idk just him filling up the sink pushing your head down in the water and fucking you

Q: bitch tf starts with Q

R: Ruin

Would have a Ruin kink I don’t remember what it’s called but you know what I mean

S: Spit

On your body in your mouth on your pus-

T: Teeth

Will bite your neck and maybe clit

U: Uncut

… yeah

V: Vagina

He loves yours<3

W: Whimpering

HIM WHIMPERING

I don’t know what to do the the last three (sorry)

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Hope you liked it

Feel free to send in requests!!!

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heich0e · 2 years

Text

"You're taking fucking forever in there."

You ignore Levi's irritated comment as you fiddle with the buckles on your shoes, too tiny to clasp easily and at a part of your ankle that requires your legs to be both tilted and bent to access them. A lethal combination in opposition to your dexterity.

"Are you sewing that dress by hand or what?"

His voice is nearer to your bedroom door now, a little bit more difficult to tune out with only the thin wood between you.

"No, my little mice helpers are doing that for me while I sing to them," you call back, but your words are light and flippant where his were heavy with the weight of his impatience.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did have your own army of vermin with the amount of junk you've got in this apartment." You can't see Levi's face but you know he's looking around your living room with his nose crinkled in the particular way he does when he finds something distasteful.

You scoff as you finally succeed in doing up your second buckle. You lift your head so you can snap your rebuttal directly towards your closed door.

"Sorry we can't all live like minimalist monks!"

Levi snorts in reply. "I'm hardly a minimalist, I just don't accumulate needless things."

"You only own one bowl, one plate, and one mug."

You've known Levi since college, and you're fairly certain he has the same amount of possessions filling the entirety of his one-bedroom apartment that he did in his one-room dorm a decade prior. Probably the same ones, too.

"That way no one ever tries to come over for meals, it's clever."

"It's spartan."

There's a light thump on the other side of your door, and you wonder what it may have been.

"Didn't you ever read those Marie Kondo books?" Levi's voice is impossibly close now, like he's got his forehead pressed to your door. The thump makes a little more sense.

You laugh a bit to yourself as you imagine the way he's slumped against the expanse of wood, long-dressed in his suit and ready to go where you've taken your time getting ready. It's not your fault Levi showed up thirty minutes earlier than he said he would to pick you up for the company party your shared workplace was throwing that evening--though you should have expected it, given he's never been tardy to anything in the entire time the two of you had been friends.

"Can't say I did," you reply as you cross your bedroom, leaning over in your mirror to get one last close-up look at your face. You run your thumbnail against the edge of your bottom lip where your gloss was slightly ill-applied. "Why do you ask?"

"S'all that," Levi sighs, "'spark joy' bullshit. Don't keep things in your space if they don't make you happy or whatever."

You smile at your own reflection, eyes flickering to the image of your bedroom door you can see in the glass.

"And what if all my 'junk' makes me happy?"

There's some shuffling, and a moment later Levi mutters: "How can an issue of a magazine from 2010 make you happy?"

You suspect he's plucked an old copy of some fashion magazine off the stack resting on the bookshelf beside your door. You've actually been meaning to throw those away for a while, but you don't tell him that.

"How can you manage to not find happiness in anything?"

"That's not true," he argues.

"Oh yeah?" you counter, adjusting the way your necklace is resting against your collarbones. "Name something that you keep around just because it makes you happy."

"My kettle."

"Nope," you answer immediately, grabbing your purse off the end of your bed and heading towards the door, "that serves a practical, utilitarian purpose. I mean something useless that you just like. Just something you think is pretty."

You grasp the handle and pull it open, and you take Levi by surprise--he barely catches himself with a hand on either side of the door frame to keep from crashing into you.

There's a little pink mark at the centre of his brow where he'd been leaning against the door, and his eyes are wide.

"You ready to go?" you ask him, tucking your bag under your arm.

He's frozen, his expression still a little taken aback.

"What?" you ask him, suddenly self conscious. Your hands tug at the material of your dress nervously. "Should I change?"

"No," he says, soft but sure. "You look... fine."

Your face pinches.

"Fine?"

"Nice," Levi corrects himself, finally looking away. He fiddles with the stack of magazines he'd been complaining about moments prior. "You look nice."

"Wow, Ackerman, with compliments like that it's shocking that you have to take your best friend as your date to the company party and not one of the countless women I'm sure are knocking at your door."

Levi narrows his eyes, tossing you a withering look.

"You're the one who said we should go together."

"That's because I want to blackout at the open bar, and you're the only person I know who turns down a drink on the corporate dollar," you say with a bright smile.

Levi tuts in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes wandering away from you again. "Charming."

A beat of silence passes.

Levi sucks in a little breath.

"You."

"Pardon?" you ask, and not even because he said it so quietly you barely understood him, but because it doesn't quite make sense.

"Something I keep around just because I like it," Levi says, his eyes fixed so intently on the outdated magazine stack that you're surprised the pages don't burst into flames. "Just because it makes me happy..."

Your heart stutters in its rhythm, a sudden weakness in your knees you can't chalk up to the height of your heels as easily as you may have liked to.

"...Just because it's pretty."

You swallow thickly.

His eyes meet yours.

The time and space between the two of you is thick and sweet like honey, and you wade through it slowly as you fight to find your words. You swear you can almost taste it as your tongue peeks out to moisten your already glossy lips.

"We should probably go," you say quietly, reaching out to adjust the lapel of Levi's suit. If your touch lingers a moment longer than it ought to, if your fingers brush against him in a way that friends' shouldn't, neither of you says anything about it.

Levi nods and clears his throat, taking the slightest step away from you towards your front door. "We gotta get you back before midnight after all, Cinderella."

You blink, a little confused, a little dazed, a little bit of a head rush still clouding your thoughts.

"The mice, remember?" Levi offers when he sees your curious look, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Oh," you laugh, letting your head hang as you nod slightly. "Right."

The two of you make your way down to the parking lot outside of your apartment building towards Levi's car, and you watch as the lights flash when he unlocks it.

"I've got two mugs, by the way," Levi says as he pulls the driver's side door open, and you pause with your hand on the handle of your own. He looks at you over the roof of his car, his eyes suddenly firmer than you'd seen them all night. More insistent. More sure.

You tilt your head, confused.

He ducks down to slide into his seat, but not before calling back to you one last time:

"The other one is yours."

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman #aot drabble #aot writing #writing #here u go anon idk what this is

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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months

Text

the lakes (9) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

5.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, lots of violence/death/blood, like a lot of it, it's the hunger games, mentions of starvation and dehydration, injuries, mental illness, self loathing, casual dominance, savior complex Finnick, codependent relationship, reader has trauma relating to being too cold especially being cold + cold water we'll get into it eventually like next chapter, terms of endearment, nudity in a non sexual way, unedited, no use of y/n, Finnick washes readers hair

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You woke up too early, there was too much time for your thoughts to run on top of the fact that you'd barely slept at all. Mind full of reminders of the last time you'd been in the arena, how cruel fate was. At least you were still with Finnick, the protection of his arms, surrounded by his love, and you snuggled further into his grasp. Desperate to savor every speck of his being, of the moment before it could be taken away from you. You forced your eyes back shut, who knew how much sleep would be available in the arena, being well-rested could be an advantage. It didn't hit you until you sniffled that you were crying, it felt pathetic, how often you cried.

“I know you're awake." His voice didn't startle you, simply made you intertwine your legs with his even further.

“Don't wanna be." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, somehow even if there was no ocean he'd been swimming in for so long, his scent was still that of saltwater. It comforted you, like the smell of your home when the windows opened in the morning.

“I know, sweet girl." He nodded, arms having wrapped themselves tighter around you. An unspoken fear that if either of you let go it would be the last time. Tears peppered his neck and you already felt like it was lulling you back to sleep.

You weren't sure when your exhausted self had fallen asleep like that, but the next thing you remembered was Finnick softly whispering your name, announcing it was time. You kept your eyes shut and shook your head which broke his heart. Part of your brain reminded you that you volunteered for this, you could have been at home sick with anxiety, but instead you chose to be here.

“Come on, sweet girl, we have too." He whispered, voice so comforting it could have made you fall right back into your sleep. He was hypnotic.

“I can't." It was true, you couldn't have willed your body to move even if you’d wanted to. Your muscles felt like they'd shut down, frozen in place. He didn't push back with an ‘I told you so’ he just began lifting you up from the bed. Your head shook as he moved, “Please, Finnick.”

"Angel, we don't have a choice.” His voice was sad, but definitive. He wiped away the residual tests and tiredness in your eyes from where he'd say you on the bed.

Staring into his soothing eyes helped your stiff muscles loosen somewhat, but shame had begun to take over your brain too. “I'm sorry." You muttered, your voice cracked and was still heavy with sleep.

“It's okay, don't worry about it.” He kissed your forehead, "I've got you, sweet girl, I'll take care of you.” The guilt was almost numbing your body all over again, but it all reactivated when Finnick tried to step away. Instantly grabbing his hand and whining when he'd tried to pull away. “I'm just starting the shower." He reassured, but you didn't let go. So he sighed before resigning himself to it and just picking you up to come with him. He started the shower and put you down.

Maybe it had all finally hit you, the fact that your impending death meant you'd never have these moments with him again, but you felt completely robotic. Your arms felt heavy and you felt lonely the moment he was no longer touching you. Your fingers fumbled as you tried to get undressed in your stupor, but Finnick’s warm hands overtook your own.

“Don't worry about it, angel, I told you I’ll take care of you." You nodded dumbly as he began helping you undress. You'd spent so much time recently trying to prove you could do this you'd forgotten how nice it was to just let him take control, let him take care of you. As he helped you into the shower the warm water made you more tired which he could tell, “I'm going to have to make the water cold to help wake you up, sweet girl, just for a little bit."

You'd mumbled something incoherently probably trying to argue, but you couldn't, you needed your head in the game today. Finnick gave you a second before turning the temperature over to cold, you weren't standing directly in the water, so the residual sprays of water misted your body making you shiver. He cupped his hands under the water, collecting some of it.

“Tilt your head back for me, angel, got to wake you up." You did so and closed your eyes as the icy water hit your face. Although you'd never admit it to him, the water itself wasn't what really was waking you up, well it was in a way. The cold instantly put you back into the arena, the way you'd all been dripping and shaking in the freezing rain for days on end. “You okay?"

You nodded, “Yeah, thank you."

“Awake enough that I can turn the water back?" He smiled softly at you as your hands moved up and down your arms trying to create heat.

“Yes, please." You were grateful when he did, making it burning hot like you preferred. It all made you miss your home in District 4 where it was usually warm outside and the water reflected that, or every time it was cool it was combined with heat. So rarely did the weather and water coincide to be bitingly cold in those cases you just refused to leave the house much to Finnick's chagrin.

He led you into the stream of water, its full heat covering you as he wet your hair. When he was fully satisfied he took his time washing it, hands massaging your scalp. “You know hot water is bad for your hair." He whispered as he washed some fancy shampoo out of it.

“I don't care and don't even think about it." You gave a warning look to him, he had a teasing look in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to let the woman I love damage her hair like this when I'm taking care of her?"

“I'll get out."

“Well we wouldn't want that." You felt so peaceful while he continued washing your hair by the time he was completely finished you felt less robotic and more malleable. Finnick began scrubbing your body clean, who knew how long until you'd be able to do that again, if ever. You soaked up every moment in fear that it could be the last time you went through this routine. He made sure you were sufficiently soapy before rinsing you off and moving onto your face. You didn't even know the names of the various Capitol products, but he did it all with ease. It almost felt unnecessary, the size of your pores didn't matter when you were fighting for your life, but you let him continue. It was calming, made you feel loved, cared for.

“Thank you, Finnick." You said when he finished, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He nodded, “Go dry off, angel, I'll be out soon."

“Don't wanna leave you." Your arms wrapped around him once again as you shook your head.

He kissed the top of your head, “Okay, angel, just stand right there and look pretty.” You took a couple of steps back as he washed himself off too, far enough to avoid most of the residual water spray when he turned the water back to cold as he cleaned his face and hair. Soon enough he was shutting off the shower head and grabbing two towels. He grabbed your hand, helping you out of the shower. “I got this too, my love."

He tied his towel around his waist before he began to dry you off. You were easy to move as he dried your hair as much as he could before sitting you down on the edge of the tub to brush your teeth. It gave you flashbacks, once upon a time you'd been sat here in this exact bathroom, in the same position as he did the same thing for you. It solidified in your mind how you wouldn't be able to live without him, he knew what you needed more than you did. Maybe because he'd dealt with it all himself and no one to do it for him, but he was always there to force you out of bed, take care of yourself, make you eat a meal, go outside, and endless other things that could have slipped your mind in favor of endless sleep. When he was done with your teeth he once again helped you up to spit on the sink and let you lean into his side as he began brushing his own.

“Let's go get you dressed." Without a word he picked you up the moment he was done brushing and brought you back to the room. The clothes didn't matter much when soon enough Cambrie would have you dressed to enter the arena, but you let him dress you in whatever he picked. Once you were both dressed, be kneeled down at the edge of the bed. “How hungry are you?"

"Not really.” But you knew you'd have to eat, the possibility it could be days until you found food again wasn't slim.

"Come on, we're going to have to try to get something in you.” He went to pick you up again.

"You're really sweet, but I can walk.”

"Preserving your energy, angel.” He smirked and held you regardless to bring you out to the table. His chair pulled up right next to yours as he got you a little bit of everything, anything that could keep you full enough for a while in the arena. You ate slowly in a comfortable silence, savoring the food that you might never taste again. In your heart you knew it was the anxiety keeping you from hunger, but you pushed on out of the larger fear of starvation in the Games.

“Good job, angel." He said softly, at first you didn't know why, but then it hit you that he needed you to be properly nourished as a sign you cared about survival. He picked up a peach from a basket on the table and handed it to you which you accepted gratefully.

You'd only relish in its sweetness for a few bites before your designers entered the room.

“It's time to go." Cambrie already sounded weepy, but that wasn't why your heart stopped. Finnick grabbed your hands intently.

“You come find me right away and I'll find you. If anything happens, you scream for me and I'll follow your voice. Don't go trying to save anyone. Please, promise me that." He said soberly, eyes boring into yours to ensure you were fully committed.

"I promise, Finnick." He nodded slowly before wrapping his arms around yours and you melted as his arms got tighter, like he didn't want to let go. He reluctantly pulled away as the two of you stood, leaving the peach on the table. You grabbed his face, kissing him as deeply as you could and he instantly did the same. “I'll see you soon." You mumbled breathlessly.

“I love you so much, you deserve to live, remember that."

"I love you, Finnick.” He kissed you again before you both were forced to get on with it, to enter the arena where the unknown and uncertain lie.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the platform began to rise, taking one last look at your stylist Cambrie who gave you a sickly sweet smile, she was convinced you would win and talked non-stop about all the benefits she would get if you did. But as the sky came into view you weren't so sure, different advice Finnick had given echoed in your head. How you needed to make your allies trust you, allow your instincts to take over, not freeze, stay logical, be wary of the environment around you, and about feeling guilty later.

Wind hit your face as you rose from the ground, quickly taking note of the environment. There was no sun out, it was cloudy, the ground was extremely muddy where the grasses were, but large chunks of dirty water made up different portions of the area surrounding the Cornucopia. You tilted your head to the side where you could see certain areas had trees, none of which were very green. It was mainly a marshland you concluded with some swamps dispersed throughout. Backpacks of supplies and different weapons lay scattered around the Cornucopia where most of the bounty lay, your allies had already agreed to go for it first thing. Not to hesitate when the gong ran out and to protect each other if someone else tried to attack. You couldn't see Conway from where you stood, but Marlowe wasn't far away on your left, staring intently forward and Birch to your right was looking around like you were. Meeting eyes for a second he just nodded his head.

It felt like the longest minute of your life, but soon enough the last few seconds were on the clock and the adrenaline in your body preparing you to spring forward. There it was, the resounding gong, and you jumped forward. Eyes searching for the closest weapon to defend yourself with. There they were, glistening with water, a few small knives and you lunged for them.

Right as your hands grasped them someone tackled you from behind. You felt your ear wet with mud as you turned over under the body on top of you, slashing your knife into whatever was above you, whatever had hands trying to grasp around your neck. Something warm hit your face as the hands went limp. You wiped your eyes with one hand to see a girl, you were pretty sure she was from District 8 above you. You pulled the blade out, pushing her off of you before scrambling off the ground, grabbing the remainder of the knives. There wasn't time to feel bad, you needed to get to the Cornucopia.

The boy from District 10? 12? Everything was too blurry, you just needed to survive, to get to everyone else. The boy caught your eye, he had a machete and before he could even come towards you with it, one of the knives flew out of your hand straight into his skull. He fell backwards and your brain told you to grab the weapons, keep going. Some small voice told you to stop, how messed up this all was, but your instincts said otherwise.

You finally saw Conway, pulling a spear out of the girl from District 3 you were pretty sure. Suddenly Marlowe was in your view too, picking up a backpack.

“Here!" You heard your own voice, but it didn't feel real and tossed the machete to her which she grabbed with ease.

“Thanks." She said quickly, and then Birch came out of the Cornucopia, bloody hatchet in hand. He had a backpack on and was holding two other ones. Throwing one to you and then Conway.

“We should fill them with what we can find before we clear out.” He said gruffly and you all nodded. You decided to grab an extra backpack as you all walked towards the Cornucopia, grabbing small weapons on the way to fill the bags. Conway and Birch went deeper inside as you and Marlowe looked around, keeping defense.

Thinking about Districts didn't even matter anymore, you could take stock later, one of the boys came at Marlowe with a sickle. You threw a knife into his chest, he took a step back, giving Marlowe enough time to thrust the machete through him. She pulled it out and grabbed the knife for you too, tossing it at you with a nod.

“I think we've got what we need." Conway's voice filled the crisp air. You dumped one of the backpacks contents into the other one, tossing the empty one on the ground before sliding the other one on. Marlowe picked up an ax before muttering something in agreement. As the four of you exited the Career pack approached. The air was tense, but it didn't make you nervous. It would be four against four, there would be no point in attacking now.

All of you kept eye contact as you passed by each other, Birch giving a brisk nod that the boy from District 1, Otto you thought his name was, returned one. So you all walked into an area with more trees, leaving the other pack to whatever was left behind in the Cornucopia.

“Do you think the water’s safe to drink?" Birch asked, looking around at the areas around you.

“It's muddy, it would have to be purified at least." You answered, trying to rub off the mud you could feel drying on your face.

“Who knows what could be inside it." Marlowe remarked, some sort of mutt ready to attack.

“We should sit here and see what we have, make a plan on where to camp and how to hunt." Conway pointed at a clump of rocks. Everyone agreed, it couldn't have been more than an hour yet you were all exhausted. Time was a construct here, they could make it day or night whenever they pleased.

Conway had two spears, a mace, a net, a water bottle, a plastic cover for rain, and some sort of bug spray.

“Oh my god, there's going to be some sort of poisonous bug." Marlowe shook her head.

“Maybe we'll get some more, we'll all share and use it sparingly." Conway said, filling the bag back up. When Birch opened his, you realized the bags weren't the same. You'd expected them too, but there were variations.

“Let's see we've got a hatchet, a sword, a serrated chain, a box of matches, this super small bottle of iodine, a tarp, and a random coil of wire, which I don't think is useful to any of us. Good thing we grabbed more than one bag." He remarked, leaning back on the rock.

Marlowe emptied out hers putting her axe and machete to one side, “A sickle, an empty bottle of water, more bug spray, thankfully, another plastic cover for rain, and these weird glasses.” She played with them in her hands.

“They're for seeing in the dark." You said, hand burrowing in the moss on the rock. “Um I've the throwing knives, a dagger, dried fruit, another bottle of iodine, and an empty bottle of water-” You internally thanked yourself for grabbing two, "Rope, more matches, a compass, and this metal bowl."

Conway nodded, “If we come across any more backpacks we should take them too." What he really meant was if you came across someone to kill them and take their things, but he didn't dare state it aloud.

“We should set up some snares, we can start a fire on the rock, so get some firewood, and fill the water bottles we do have." Marlowe stood up, axe in hand.

“What if someone sees the smoke?" Birch asked, sliding a bit as he stood.

“Then there's four of us and one of them, the Careers won't attack us, not yet. We can use the wire for fish-hooks, see if there's any to catch. I'll make a fishing rod and we can use the net." You filled the bag back up and stood on the muddy ground.

Birch nodded, “Good thinking." He smiled, he had the type of smile that was so infectious it made the most mournful times somewhat happier.

“Let's put on some of the spray first." Conway pulled out the bottle, shaking it. Trying to use it sparsely, save it as long as possible. All of you stayed nearby, but still split for your tasks. You made some rods with stray branches, cut off some of the rope, and wire. Setting them into the mud, if there were some fish you'd set up the net wherever you camped for future meals. Conway had begun filling up the bottles you had and putting in the iodine to purify what you did have. Birch had decided he would set up some snares and borrowed your dagger in case there was something he could kill before it even hit the snares.

Marlowe got done with the firewood the quickest, saying how back in District 7 there were punishments if quotas weren't filled fast enough so she'd been forced to learn how fast she could chop wood since she was a child.

“Caught anything?" She asked, setting down the wood on a tarp to keep it dry.

You shook your head, “No, I'm too worried about whatever poisonous bugs might be here to dig for worms. If Birch catches anything I'll use part of it for bait, I might just throw the net in though."

"Here I found some crickets.” Conway came over, hands cupped.

"Are we sure they're not poisonous?” Marlowe asked as she began setting up the fire.

"Looks like plain old crickets to me.” Conway laughed, grabbing on the rods to stick them on the hooks. Slowly, but surely the fish began coming in. “I'll skin and you keep catching?" He asked, squeezing your shoulder.

You smiled up at him, “Sounds good to me." Marlowe had a fire started the moment everyone was ready, hours had passed by the time you'd caught a good enough share, skinned them, began to cook them, and Birch returned with some rabbits.

“We should eat here and then move to find a different camp before the sun goes down." Marlowe was helping Birch with the rabbits while you cleaned off the knives being used for each thing. You'd eaten much better than you'd expected too, trout and rabbit, plus having water. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you started. Immediately you began packing up camp, Conway filled up and purified the water bottles again before you all started trekking again. The temperature began to drop and the jacket stopped doing as much as it had been doing before, you all finally stopped at an area with more dense greenery and trees. Laying out the tarps and plastic covers to try for some warmth.

Then there the light was in the sky, time to find out which tributes were dead. Both tributes from District 3, the girl to Conway. You thought of that poor 13 year old boy's family watching their baby die and silently prayed he'd gone quick. No one from 1,2, or 4 which was unsurprising. Birch had killed the boy from 5 and the boy from 6 is the one who'd tried coming at you and Marlowe. That was the female tributes from 5 and 6 still alive plus both District 7 tributes, since they were both with you. The girl from 8 was you, but the male tribute was also dead, probably from one of the Career’s. Both from 9 were dead, both from 10 probably even more from the Careers. 11 was still alive, but you were right about thinking the boy who was going to attack you was from 12, his district partner survived though. 13 tributes left, 11 dead in one day.

Everyone was quiet, solemn. “I'll take first watch." Your shaky voice cut through the night air, after the silence had almost become unbearable.

“Me too." Conway's arms were around your shoulders, he wasn't particularly warm, but it was better than sitting alone. Birch and Marlowe agreed, laying down to get some sleep. You stared at the night sky, there were very few stars in the sky even if you knew they were artificial, it made you even more upset. Nothing would beat the feeling of you and Finnick sitting on the beach at night, staring at the stars over the glistening water as his warmth surrounded you like some sort of shield.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“I'm just going to miss you so much!" Cambrie was bawling onto your shoulder. The Capitol woman who's whole life was ahead of her was crying to you, the one about to be sent to a battle of the death. “I'm going to dedicate a whole fashion line to you, it'll be such a hit." She meant well, she really did and that's what you reminded yourself.

“Including the wedding dress?" If anything it made you want to cry more thinking about how this poor, misguided woman still cared about you so much.

“Oh yes. With a train like you're walking on water and sea foam." She pulled away to blow her nose. “You just have to come back, gorgeous, I'll literally die without you." Ironic. “Maybe they'll be a hologram or something, won't be as good as the real thing, but you're my muse." The sickening part was definitely back, but she raised to be shallow so she was. A voice echoed around the room indicating your need to get on the platform. You hugged her one last time and she kissed you on the cheek, probably leaving trails of pink glitter but at least it was a proper goodbye.

“Thank you, Cambrie. I couldn't have asked for a better designer." You walked over to the platform that closed around you, giving her a soft smile as he waved a goodbye, tears streaking down her slightly purple tinted skin.

Your foot tapped nervously on the platform and you hoped that at the very least it wouldn't be a cold arena. You began moving up, sun, you could see sunlight, that was good, at least you'd have sunshine. The smell of salt air hit your nostrils and it shocked you, a smell you were pretty sure would be left at home was right here. If you died, you'd die knowing that wasn't the last time you were one with the salty waters. When you were finally all the way up you looked around anxiously, it was water, clear, seawater you had to swim to get to the Cornucopia or the rows of rocks that you could walk on. Jungle was on the other side of the beaches, but there were beaches that felt almost too good to be true, like it was perfect for District 4. The sun cut in the way of your vision making it nearly impossible to make out faces, but you couldn't find Finnick. You took some deep breaths, preparing to dive the moment the gong rang out. He'd go straight to the Cornucopia and try to find Katniss so you'd do the same.

The instant the gong let out you'd dived in, having eyed the nearest part of land so you could try and make the quickest swim there. It didn't take long and you were hoisting yourself on the rocks. Running forwards to the shiny structure where he had to be. A hand from the side grabbed your leg and you tried to kick it off, “Finnick!" You shouted as the person attached to the hand emerged from the side of the rocks, pulling you down. He was from District 9, a lot older, but he was still much stronger. Brute strength had never been on yours side, but you could tell it was on his. “Finnick, Finnick!" You screamed, trying to kick the man off of his. His hands grabbed your shoulders harshly before punishing them back, head roughly hitting the rocks. It was dizzying, your head felt like it was literally spinning and your nose made it feel like you were drowning. Hands flew up, your vision was somewhat blurry, but last time you'd been in this position you'd taken out Conway’s eye. Even if that kept you up at night, you could do it again. “Finnick!" Scratching at the man's face seemed to be doing very little besides delaying him as he tried to bat away your hands. Then he was coughing, sputtering blood all over your face the shock he seemed to be going through gave you an opportunity to kick him off of you, his weight on you made it a struggle but the adrenaline forced you to persist. He fell flat when you did escape and then you saw the axe in his back. You looked up, Johanna was headed your way.

You wanted to say thank you, but you felt somewhat frozen, your mouth tasted like iron, and she was somewhat blurry. “He's over in the Cornucopia, with Katniss." She said, tearing her ax out of the man’s back. Her eyes found Wiress and she went to get her, mostly because according to Haymitch it was her way in with Katniss, she'd only take Johanna if she'd saved who Katniss wanted.

Your hands went to wipe your face and there was more blood on your hands then anticipated then it hit you that your nose was bleeding, the shock hadn't allowed you to initially realize, but you probably looked like a mess of free falling blood. “Finnick!" You yelled, your head ached as you kept running forward. Through the ringing that had begun in your ears you could faintly hear your name being called. You finally caught sight of him running towards you, a seemingly reluctant Katniss behind him.

“What happened?" He asked, wiping some of the blood off of your face.

“Nine, Johanna just saved my life." Your mouth felt like it was filling with the blood as you wiped your face again.

“Well, I'll have to thank her sometime." Finnick smiled even though you could tell he was still concerned, so were you, the pounding in your head still hadn't gone away. “Here." He slid three small knives into your palm, “Grabbed them when I was in there for you, angel."

“Thank you." He quickly kissed you, getting his own lips getting smeared with blood. There were no complaints as he wiped it off and turned back to Katniss.

“Peeta! Peeta!" She was looking around frantically.

“Found him! Over here!" Finnick shouted, handing you his trident as he dived into the waters where Peeta was struggling to stay afloat. Katniss ran over as Finnick brought Peeta back to the shore.

“Peeta!" She helped pull him up and you all paused a moment as he gained balance. You handed Finnick back his trident. The ebbing pain in your head was finally seeming to lessen.

“Let's head out this way." Finnick said, arm around you as he began walking forward. Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus, and Enobaria continued on with their Bloodbath as your group made its way onto the beach and into the jungle. There were no supplies waiting around this time, you supposed they weren't intending for this to be a long enough game to need a survival kit just weapons. It felt safer though, you had Finnick, warm, protective, hovering Finnick. There would be no need to imagine the times you had with him when he was right there even if the plan was dangerous enough to get you both executed regardless of what happened in the arena.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading I was so excited to write this one, but I've been pretty busy so it took me a while to get finished but I'm so glad I did. thank you all for the feedback and support, if you enjoyed it let me know comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated and my ask box is always open. 💋

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